Friday, December 26, 2008

Dear My Mom,

I'll admit that I rolled my eyes when in one of your random emails to me, you rhapsodized about how my son needed to keep his childhood innocence by holding onto a belief in Santa Clause. I'm assuming you thought I was going to sit my kid down and say something along the lines of "you know he's fake, right?" Which, whatever, I guess you think I'm some kind of an asshole or something.

That sentiment, though, seems to be a bit contradictory to the email you sent to said innocent child that contained the line "I'm sure you don't believe in Santa anymore..." Which... what? Who's the asshole here?

I can't say for certain whether or not the kid still believes - he hangs out with a bunch of sixth graders at school and has picked up a few things I'd rather have him not know about yet, so I'm pretty sure that someone has clued him in by now - but he still baked cookies on Christmas Eve, set them out on his favorite plate, and counted out nine carrots for the reindeer. So if he's not willing to give up the farce, it won't kill me to keep it up.

Every day I find a reason to be glad that we don't live anywhere near you.

Thanks,

me

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting, letter to