I've been debating whether or not to finally tell Emily that there is no Santa Claus. She's ten years old, and most of her friends already know the truth, so I figured that maybe she was ready to know the truth, too. This morning, I decided to go ahead and tell her. Here's how it went...
ME: Emily, I need to talk to you about something.
EMILY: Yes, Mom?
ME: Emily, there's no Santa.
EMILY: Yes there is. There's no Santa at Mema and Grandaddy's house, but there is a Santa here.
ME: Emily, Santa's not REAL.
EMILY: You're lying to me, Mom.
Can you believe it? I finally get the nerve to break my child's heart and tell her the truth about Santa, and she refuses to believe me. I guess all of those great, logical explanations of how and why Santa was real that I gave her over the course of her life have really stuck. She's completely convinced that Santa is real and that I was just trying to mess with her by telling her differently.