No, Mr. Strange Man, There Isn't a Santa Claus
Today we hung out with my brother-in-law, poguer, who is in town for a conference. After lunch, I went swimming with him and the kids at his hotel. On the elevator ride down, an older gentleman was admiring Elliot, and Gillian informed him, as she likes to do, that Elliot is a Christmas baby.
The man said, "That means Santa Claus brought him."
"No," said Gillian, matter-of-factly.
"Oh yes, Santa brought him," repeated the man.
"No, he came out of my mommy," said Gillian.
"That's what Santa does. He brings all the Christmas babies," said the man, not knowing when to give it a rest.
"No," said Gillian for the last time.
I loved her confidence in the face of an adult pressing this fantasy on her. I complemented her later on not yielding to him just because he was an adult. There are many reasons I want my child to be able to know truth from bullshit and stand up to adults, so I'm glad she's on the right road.
The man said, "That means Santa Claus brought him."
"No," said Gillian, matter-of-factly.
"Oh yes, Santa brought him," repeated the man.
"No, he came out of my mommy," said Gillian.
"That's what Santa does. He brings all the Christmas babies," said the man, not knowing when to give it a rest.
"No," said Gillian for the last time.
I loved her confidence in the face of an adult pressing this fantasy on her. I complemented her later on not yielding to him just because he was an adult. There are many reasons I want my child to be able to know truth from bullshit and stand up to adults, so I'm glad she's on the right road.