The Santa Hoax

I freely admit that I made a lot of mistakes as a father. There were many times that I was not as patient and loving as I should have been with my children. But there is one thing I absolutely did get right: I vowed that I would never lie to my children, and I have kept that vow.

There were a few occasions when I deferred an answer until they were older, and a couple of times when I invoked my fifth amendment rights to avoid embarrassing revelations about transgressions committed in my wayward youth. But I never lied to them - about anything - even Santa Claus.

The whole Santa thing has always been a pet peeve of mine, and I'll tell you why.

When I was a kid, my parents, like most other parents, thought they were giving me a gift by telling me that Santa Claus would be bringing me presents on Christmas morning. When I was very young, I believed them without question. But as I got older, sometime around 1st or 2nd grade, I began to have my doubts.

You don't have to be a rocket scientist to question just how this obese old guy gets around the entire world in one night. That whole flying reindeer tale should have been my first tip-off. Even to a goofy 2nd grader, this story is a stretch.

When I finally got my parents to confess to the Santa hoax, I felt like I had been bamboozled. How could I have ever been so gullible to believe a story like that in the first place? And what other things were my parents making up stories about? When I got older, I knew I didn't want to make my kids feel that way about me.

As parents, we attempt to teach our children a lot of important things. If we expect them to respect us, and trust us, then we need to establish a track record of credibility.

So I vowed that I would never lie to my children. I did not want to fill their heads with tales about Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and all the other assorted childhood fantasies, because I wanted to make sure that they would believe me when I had something really important to tell them.

If I would lie to them about Santa and the Tooth Fairy, wouldn't they have a legitimate reason, as they grew up, to wonder if I was telling them the truth about Jesus? That was a bridge that I never wanted to have to cross. My kids had to know that God was real, and that they could trust me when I told them about him.

Lest you think I was some old Scrooge, I never tried to steal the wonder and joy of Christmastime from my kids. I simply told them that Santa was pretend, but that it was fun to pretend, and it was OK for them to pretend about Santa if they wished. They could pretend about anything they wanted, as long as they KNEW it was pretend, and not reality.

Kids have a natural gift for fantasy and game-playing, so they were totally OK with this concept. They would talk about Santa, and visit Santa at the mall, but deep down inside they knew they were just pretending. And they knew that I respected them enough to be honest with them.

There were some problems over the years when my kids would insist on sharing this knowledge with friends of theirs who actually did believe in Santa. I think there were a few parents unhappy with me. But what can I say? Truth is truth.

So Merry Christmas everybody! If you enjoy the whole Santa thing, I apologize for dissing your holiday tradition. But I can tell you, with 100% accuracy, that there is a much greater joy to be found this Christmas season.

Because the true story is, there really was a baby Jesus, born to be our Savior and Lord. You can read all about him in the Gospels, and I would encourage you to do so this Christmas season.

Emmanuel..."God with us"...the divine eternal creator...humbling himself to be born here and live among men. What an incredible sacrifice for God to make on our behalf! This story is so amazing that it is hard for people to believe it's true.

Until you ask God to open your eyes, you won't believe it either.

Historians are a bit fuzzy on the time line, but I can live with that. The exact date is not crucial, but the reality of the event marks a turning point in human history.

The plain fact is that Jesus was born, in a stable in Bethlehem, to a virgin named Mary and her husband Joseph, one evening about 2000 years ago. As God incarnate, he came here to die for our sins, save us from hell, and offer us the gift of eternal life.

I wouldn't lie to you about a thing like that.

What I Do Not Want For Christmas

No doubt you are among the millions of readers of this blog who toss and turn, night after night, wondering what to get me for Christmas.

As a public service, please allow me to put your minds at ease. I am easy to please. Any thoughtful trinket you may wish to present to me will be appreciated, with the exception of the following:

1. Barack Obama Chia Bust -- You might think I'm making this up, but such an atrocity is on the shelves. For reasons too numerous to mention, I do not want one. And no commemorative plates, either.

2. Hair care products -- Sadly, I am fast approaching the point where these are unnecessary. If I do receive any hair care products for Christmas, I will probably just re-gift them to John Kerry or Donald Trump.

3. Lottery Tickets -- Is there any crappier present than a lottery ticket? Scratch it and throw it away...wheeee! I've always considered the lottery a stealth tax on foolish people -- please don't make me a party to that! If I am ever hit by lightning, I will know is it time to buy a lottery ticket, because I will have the same chances of winning the lottery as I did of getting struck by the lightning.

4. Speedo Swim Trunks -- Though I have worked diligently to maintain myself in peak physical condition over the years, it is unbecoming to flaunt it. Modesty dictates that I keep my rock-hard physique appropriately covered lest I cause a riot at the beach.

5. Fruitcake -- The phantom terror of every Christmas season. How can you eat something that never deteriorates? Who knows how old that thing is? I've heard stories that archeologists found pieces of perfectly preserved fruit cake in the stomach of King Tut, and they still tasted just fine. It's the re-gifting item that keeps on giving, year after year after year.

6. Star Certificate -- Every year I hear these commercials. For only $54 you can name a star after anyone you wish. All names will be registered with the International Star Registry. You get a customized certificate! Right. If you're going to present me with such a lame gift, at least upgrade me to planet status. Stars are so last year.

7. European Shoulder Bag -- Let me be clear: although I am totally secure in my male identity, and in touch with my inner woman, I have to draw the line somewhere. You can call it a shoulder bag, but Seinfeld had it right: it's a man-purse. No way, Jose. I can handle the fat wallet. I can even handle a fanny-pack. But no man-purse, please!

Now that you know what to avoid, let the shopping begin. I can't wait for you to surprise me.