🎅 My kids are older now and no longer Santa people, but I share this one every year.
“Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”
Roald Dahl
When you have kids, December becomes less of a month and more of a full-time production. You’re not just decorating a tree—you’re managing logistics.
You’re tracking inventory, monitoring behavior, laundering an elf, and running an underground surveillance operation known as “making magic.”
And it’s worth every bit of it.
Because at some point, someone will say:
“Are you ever going to tell them Santa isn’t real?”
And I just want to say—
No.
No, I am not.
I pay too much in shipping for that kind of emotional honesty.
There’s this idea that letting your kids believe in Santa is some kind of betrayal.
That you’re “lying” to them.
But I’ve seen my kids’ faces when they wake up on Christmas morning, and I’ve seen my face when I look at a property tax bill, and I promise you—we could all use more lying.
Believing in Santa isn’t about deception.
It’s about training wheels for wonder.
It’s about teaching kids that there’s goodness in the world that can’t be fully explained, even if one day, they will explain it.
Because the truth always comes for them eventually.
They’ll learn what bills are.
They’ll learn what stress smells like.
They’ll learn that “holiday hours” just means “more work, but with music.”
So if, for a few years, they get to believe in a man who eats cookies and hands out joy—yeah, I’m fine with that.
And when they do finally ask, “Is Santa real?”
That’s the moment.
That’s when you can lean in and say, “What do you think?”
Because now they get to decide.
They get to choose between magic and logic,
between certainty and wonder.
And either way—they’re right.
Because Santa is real.
He just gets promoted.
He becomes you.
And the cookies are now yours.
So go ahead. Let them believe.
Let them have that wide-eyed version of the world where magic still wins,
where kindness is currency,
and where a man in red proves that impossible things happen.
