Childhood Innocence
December 7, 2017 2:54 PM   Subscribe

 
That was very sweet.
posted by shoesietart at 3:41 PM on December 7


You got to have some babies around if you really want to enjoy christmas.
posted by Bee'sWing at 4:08 PM on December 7 [1 favorite]


You got to have some babies around if you really want to enjoy christmas.

Or at least some Baileys.
posted by Jellybean_Slybun at 5:00 PM on December 7 [13 favorites]


So cute.
I remember stomping around in the attic above my kids' rooms with sleighbells about 14 years ago, an hour or so after they went to bed, and hearing them whisper and giggle SO EXCITEDLY. Sigh. God I miss that.
I don't miss the hours it took me to put together the Ikea dollhouse or the Playmobil hospital, though (tiny fucking rubber HOSES on tiny oxygen tanks!)
posted by chococat at 5:19 PM on December 7 [11 favorites]


Ow, my dusty ass old ovaries
posted by We'll all float on okay at 5:55 PM on December 7 [7 favorites]


One year when I was a kid and my parents were setting the presents by the chimney, my father had an idea - he got one of his boots and stamped it in the ashes in the fire place, then stamped a couple of "boot prints" on the hearth. The next morning, when my brother and I saw the prints we flipped completely the fuck out.

Dad sometimes still tells that story to people as like "one of the best Christmas-for-the-kids ideas I had."
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 8:19 PM on December 7 [4 favorites]


If you want you some cute, here is Nano McGee going to meet Santa for the first time, yesterday.
posted by Eyebrows McGee at 9:48 PM on December 7 [20 favorites]


When I started to doubt in Santa Claus, my mum found one of her father's old corncob pipes and left it out by the empty muffin wrappers (because we left muffins for Santa, not cookies), and I vividly remember freaking out on Christmas morning when I realized that Santa had left his pipe behind (no one in my family smokes). I was so worried I was going to get in trouble that I had Santa's pipe, but Mum said we could hold onto it until he returned next year.

The pipe was displayed on a bookshelf for an entire year and I was Very Aware of it. I made sure we left it by the muffins again on Christmas Eve, and in the morning, both the muffins and the pipe were gone! I have the vague idea there might have been a note thanking me for taking such good care of the pipe.

It definitely made me believe in Santa for at least another year or two. Sneaky Mum.
posted by paisley sheep at 10:31 PM on December 7 [9 favorites]


When I was six a boy in school told me Santa wasn't real, which I already suspected might be the case as I'd been thinking on the logic of it all, even then. I went home and started demanding to know if he was real or not. To my mother's credit, she saw the game was up and said "No, he's not real."

"Thank you," I said politely, pleased I'd gotten an adult to tell me the truth, and went to my room where I secretly cried a little, though I've never admitted that last bit before. I really was quite sure before I asked, but it still stung a bit to have it confirmed. I'm sure I didn't hide my disappointment as a six year old nearly as well as I thought I did, but my mom didn't push me on it.

Still, it was a valuable lesson that you often do know the truth, but don't really want to admit it or have it be confirmed.
posted by los pantalones del muerte at 11:20 PM on December 7 [2 favorites]


there's a bunch of people in this thread who don't understand how Santa's little Helpers (TM) function
posted by philip-random at 12:01 AM on December 8 [2 favorites]


Have engaged in advanced Santa-set-ups ("Yes, OK, I'll take a photo of him [...] Come let's look at the pictures... uhm, what!? He doesn't show up in photos??"; sack of toys left on the roof terrace (to jibe with the massive dash he's surely doing to deliver ALL THOSE PRESENTS TO EVERYONE); altered-voice messages and texts from "Santa" sent to partner's cellphone, to herd the young'uns into hiding; etc) - regret none of it, for the priceless reactions earned.
posted by progosk at 2:05 AM on December 8 [1 favorite]


there's a bunch of people in this thread who don't understand how Santa's little Helpers (TM) function.

I was the last kid of 4. That Santa’s Helper (TM) thing does not work well for the last kid. Even at the time I was like “That’s all you got mom? That’s hardly a good trade. You had years to think this through.”
posted by greermahoney at 2:48 AM on December 8 [1 favorite]


When I was six a boy in school told me Santa wasn't real

My son turns six next week and last night he asked if Santa is real. I want to shake whoever put that seed of doubt in his mind so early. We only get a very few Christmases when they're old enough to know who Santa is and believe.
posted by Fleebnork at 5:46 AM on December 8


I'm afraid I was one of those children whose contribution to excited playground discussions on the subject was invariably a sniffy He's Just Your Parents Really, You Know.

Sorry. :/

I honestly can't ever remember believing in Father Christmas or the Tooth Fairy, etc. (despite my parents cheerfully perpetuating the notions), and even used to get quite angry about the whole thing back then, viewing it with utter outrage as parents deliberately lying to small children.

(I have become much kinder about the whole thing, and did my share of carving reindeer tooth-marks in carrots for the benefit of bolstering my younger siblings' faith every year.)
posted by Morfil Ffyrnig at 6:21 AM on December 8


My son turns six next week and last night he asked if Santa is real. I want to shake whoever put that seed of doubt in his mind so early. We only get a very few Christmases when they're old enough to know who Santa is and believe.

The other day, I was at a (hospital staff) Christmas Party with my two "extra" kids. After a while, the 11-year old asked if we could go out for a while, and we went out to kick at a ball in the playground. She told me that she thought that Santa and the magician who was there to entertain where the same person. I said no, that's not possible, and she said they wore the same glasses. Then she said that it didn't matter, she didn't believe in Santa anymore. But she did believe in "nisser", the Nordic equivalent of elves. I was relieved, and we had a long talk about valid proof for nisser.

When I was a kid, my grandparents always did an elaborate show on Christmas Eve. We'd all be seated for dinner, and at some point my grandmother would go out to fetch some more gravy, or something. While outside, she'd exit through the back door, and go and knock on the front door. Like all farmers, they literally never, ever used the front door, so a knock on the front door was in itself thrilling. My granddad would then go out into the hallway, closing the door behind him, and open the front door for Santa!! He'd always invite him in to dinner, and Santa would always explain how busy he was, and how time differences helped him manage his work. And then they would have the talk behind the closed door. Santa would ask about each one of us, including the adults, and he would know well if we'd been good or bad. So granddad would defend us — yes, it's true that little M took all the Nutella, but he hadn't yet quite understood the concept of sharing. And yes, J failed at his exams, but he did a really good job repairing the tractor.
It was quite magical, everyone got caught up with it, even the adults, even my grandmother who was part of the show, probably co-writing the manuscript, and that of course made it seem even more true for the little ones.
Then Santa would say goodbye, and granddad would re-enter with a few extra gifts, including a huge one for granny (and that package would invariably be a lot of boxes within boxes with something very nice in a smallish box at the end of unwrapping).
posted by mumimor at 7:15 AM on December 8 [5 favorites]


This is reminding me of this ad, which is from the same company that did the Polish-grandpa-learns-English ad last year.
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 7:22 AM on December 8 [3 favorites]


My son turns six next week and last night he asked if Santa is real. I want to shake whoever put that seed of doubt in his mind so early. We only get a very few Christmases when they're old enough to know who Santa is and believe.

I may have cried a little when I realized it for certain because of what that kid said, but I regret it not at all. Instead I—believe this or don't—actually credit that moment with starting my lifelong willingness to doubt easy answers, increasing my curiosity about how the world works, and tilting me from faith-based answers to reality-based ones—science. I wouldn't shake the kid; I'd like to shake his hand.
posted by los pantalones del muerte at 1:02 PM on December 8


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