An Open Apology to Santa

Dear Santa Claus,

First, I owe you an apology for that time at the mall when I was three years old and screamed bloody murder because my parents made me to sit on your lap. Sorry about that. No offense, but I still think it’s a little creepy to make a kid sit on a stranger’s lap. 

However, my main reason for writing is not to apologize for my own issues with you; it’s to apologize for my son’s. Any time your name is mentioned, he says things like, “If I saw Santa, I’d do a Jump Spin Crescent Kick to his solar plexus.” 

(Don’t worry – we’re steering clear of the mall this year.)

I didn’t mean to raise a Santa-hater. True, starting when he was three, I made it clear to him that you aren’t real. I wanted him to understand that I would never ask him to believe something I don’t believe myself. It’s a trust thing, setting the stage for the honesty I want him to expect from me his whole life. (By the way, I don’t judge parents who approach the Santa issue differently; there’s no “right” way.)

Still, not believing in you isn’t the same as wanting to fight you. So what gives with Huckle? Plus, it’s shocking to hear my son talk that way. We don’t condone violence or hate in our family. We hardly even use the word “hate.” (We dislike overcooked broccoli, homework, and anything pink.)

But then I thought more about my son’s reaction. 

I’m no expert on boys – I’m learning on the job and making plenty of mistakes – but here’s what I suspect. I think a ten-year-old boy needs an enemy. He craves danger and conflict, purpose and adventure. He needs an outlet for his energy and a challenge to his "brute" strength. I can’t understand it, but I can learn to respect it.

For boys that play team sports, their enemy could be the opposing team. For boys who read comic books or play video games, maybe it’s enough to fight vicariously through superheroes and avatars. Even kids from uber-political families have an enemy:  the other party battling it out in elections.

My son doesn’t play many team sports or video games and has politically unexcitable parents. I suspect he’s been missing out on having an enemy. So, when he rooted around in his peaceful little life, he only found you, Santa. And now I think you might be a decent choice, since you aren’t even real.

So thanks, Santa, for being my son’s nemesis. 

Respectfully,

Huckle’s mom 

PS. You might want to give the Tooth Fairy a heads-up. In case she’s next.