On the way home from the cottage a week ago, the kids were being deliciously quiet, meditating in the back when James blindsided me.
“Why doesn’t Santa ever die?”
The whole world dragged, wheels grinding, to a stop, only to focus on a little blonde angel, ravenous for knowledge that he knew I could give him.
“Um…” I dug deep for some brilliant response, refusing to lie to him. I have this thing about lying. I have vowed never to tell even the slightest fib to my kids, even if it would make my life easier. I find I’ve become extremely adept at speaking in half-truths, and though it’s not entirely honest, at least the words coming out of my mouth are all fact.
I haven’t been able to dig up any half-truths for this particular question. Now, if he asked me if Santa was real then I could probably think of something (Santa is alive in our hearts and is the spirit of giving, etc.).
“Um… That’s a great question, James. I’ll look into it and get back to you.”
He contemplated my response, suspicion dripping from his blue eyes. I think he’s catching on. He knows I’m trying to evade him. Trying to distract him, hoping he would forget about his question and move on.
My plan is failing.
Anyone have any ideas? I could seriously use some help here.