The Jig is Up: Santa Killed in Toronto
Daphne is 14, Shaggy is 12 and Santa is dead.
It happened last year but I suspect it happened even before that.
Might I take a moment to reminisce…
Santa was alive and well when Daphne asked for a stuffed Franklin the Turtle for Christmas. Santa called everywhere and even scoured eBay. No Franklin was to be found. Santa had the bright idea to call the publisher and find out who owned the merchandising rights. Then he Ho Ho’d the merchandiser who Ba Humbug’d the idea and said they owned the rights but had never merchandised. As Santa was shopping for sewing patterns online (Santa was Oh, so jolly at 8+ months pregnant and possibly nesting), Santa received a call from the toy shop. The elf worked at the publisher’s office and she wanted to send Daphne a parcel including a doll she sourced from the German North Pole. A giant box arrived two days before Shaggy did and it included a Franklin doll, puzzles, movies and books. Santa lived then and quite possibly cried for a week at the generosity of strangers. That publisher was on the nice list for sure.
Santa was alive and well when Shaggy asked, in his letter to Santa no less, that Santa take a selfie in our house on Christmas night. Damn kid. Shaggy even cleared our camera and left it on the coffee table right in front of the fireplace with a little pat and a wink directed at his mother. Santa will not be outdone young lad and never dare Santa! Santa sourced a green screen picture of himself that resembled a selfie, took a selfie of himself in his pyjamas regular clothes. He then superimposed the picture of himself in front of the family tree. The camera took a picture of the computer screen and replaced it on the coffee table before going out on his sleigh. He downed the glass of wine the kids left instead of milk. Santa lived then.
Then Shaggy finally broke it to me that I am the only person in the house who still believes in Santa. This sucks! I truthfully don’t even want Christmas now because, well, Santa isn’t coming.
I have been pissy since the bomb was dropped. I have been keeping this fraud alive for 13 years and now I have no direction.
“Please can I put reindeer tracks on the roof just this last time?” Shaggy said No.
“Please can I spread soot from the fireplace to the tree?” Mister said Not a Chance. Come on!
“Please can I hire a friend to play Santa and have a picture of Daphne and Shaggy sitting on the creepy stranger’s lap in our home?” My mother said ‘It worked for you’. (Therapy has helped.)
Before NORAD took over, my father used to call my grandmother Mrs Claus. She would tell me Santa had left the North Pole and I better get to sleep so he didn’t pass the house. I would stand and look out my window knowing I saw the sleigh and run to bed with my eyes slammed shut. “Can I do that?” Daphne just rolled her eyes.
My family doesn’t want me to be Santa. They still want the little gifts at the end of their bed that Santa always put there to amuse them and give Mister and I a few extra minutes of sleep. They still want the stocking jammed too full so there are extra ‘bags’ alongside them. They still want the mystery gifts under the tree that they didn’t ask for, but they don’t want me to have the fun. I might just surprise them this year with a racket in the middle of the night and some very loud bells and Ho Ho Ho-ing and the sound of cookies being shoved in my face by the dozen. Then, maybe next year, they will let me call Mrs Claus so they can sleep.
It’s a plan.
BTW: I am over at Sammiches and Psych Meds this week with my tips on creating the perfect family dinner (it’s a satire piece obviously). Please check it out.
Oh man, what a GREAT Mother you (were) are!!! You could track soot all over my house (who would notice) if I had a chimney in Ft. Lauderdale! Hope Santa visits your house despite your Scrooge-like loved ones. And leaves you stuff.
I am on Amazon now to buy a Santa suit and wear to pick them up on the last day of school. That’ll learn them!
Well, now you have to paint your car red and play lots of loud HO-HO-HO’s so that ALL the kids will hear you before you even show up! And you actually have cold weather, so “revenge is a dish best served cold” actually applies!
There’s one more trick up Santa’s sleeve to help stump your non-believers. It’s the Chocolate Santa from Coco Organic Chocolates! I wrote about it yesterday – http://underthelids.com/2015/12/07/for-the-kids-on-the-cusp-of-claus/
That is one of the coolest things! Off to write a letter.
I ordered these and so did all my friends! Thanks for the tip (PS: They are right around the corner from me and I didn’t know they did this. Shame.)
First of all, I can’t believe all the trouble Santa went through for the selfie. Very impressive. I wonder if Santa could be kind enough to teach me techy tricks. I do so adore the enthusiasm you put into absolutely everything. You inspire me. And yeah, I get the overloaded stocking thing. I can’t wait to my kids move out so we can save a few hundred dollars on stocking stuffers.
Sandra recently posted…Personality Thing or Bipolar Thing
The tech gadgets alone in their stockings are killing the budget! I just can’t help myself though.
I think rumors of Santa’s death may be greatly exaggerated. He may be forced into hibernation but the big guy is amazingly resilient. Although it might be a tad too early to start thinking about grandkids.
Christopher recently posted…Kindness And Cruelty.
Don’t worry, Santa will be visiting me. My stocking will be overloaded with fantastic stuff and the kids are getting coal–as soon as I find some that doesn’t make a mess. I’ll try Amazon.
I kid you not–it’s a picture frame made from coal. Punish the youngsters and preserve the memories of doing it at the same time.
http://www.cafepress.com/+anthracite_coal_picture_frame,1120656300?utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=1120656300–c-9013193&utm_source=pla-google&utm_campaign=155847850&utm_content=13669287250
Christopher recently posted…Kindness And Cruelty.
That is crazy awesome! Off to buy for my little grinches.
Reading this made me realize that Santa may well be dead in our house after this year. My son turns eight soon and I remember that I was eight when I found out the “truth”. Boo-hoo! This makes me so sad. Will this be my last year to put out reindeer food (oats mixed with glitter)? Clearly we need to hang out together and drown our sorrows…
Gina W. recently posted…An Easy Way to Feel More Alive!
8 is too young to find out. Keep the dream alive Gina. Glitter oats is crazy awesome but you might have to up your game for next year (and NO that doesn’t mean buying a damn elf on the shelf). Don’t give up or give in.
I really enjoyed the post, but it was a sad one for me too. Yes, poor old Santa. Most of us only have to die once, but he keeps dying in homes all over the world. He’s been dead in our house for a while now, but I still have a glass of milk, some cookies and half a carrot every year in his memory.
I’ve graduated to wine and chocolate myself. I toss Scooby the carrot.
If I were your kid I’d pretend to keep believing, because the Santa that comes to your house is freaking awesome. I’m sure they’ll still be receiving wonderful gifts, but who wouldn’t love waking up to gifts at the foot of their bed, overflowing stockings, and mystery presents under the tree? It’s a win/win, silly Daphne and Shaggy!
I agree! Here they are thinking they were being clever when in actual fact they were ruining it for themselves. Who am I kidding… they will still get the same Christmas but I will have to drink more Bailey’s to stop my tears.
RIP Santa.
I am very impressed at the lengths he went to – that selfie!
I actually remember having the nerve-wracking conversation with my santa-loving mother about the same thing. I knew it would break her heart.
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Heart officially broken.
I guess it’s time to have the last baby now, Kristine.
Sorry Margot. Not possible without divine intervention.
WhewShucks!Ahem. Isn’t that what Christmas is all about?
Ha! Touché.
My mom was the last one in our house growing up to give up Santa too. It can be hard when the kids have outgrown you. My daughter is 8 years older than my son, so I got a nice long run and was ready to give it up when he was.
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I am clearly not ready. SO clearly not ready.