According to Hofmann: Virginia grew up
Christmas 2021 was a bittersweet experience in the Hofmann household as it marked the year that then-11-year-old Emma told us she stopped believing in Santa Claus.
Well, technically, she didn鈥檛 tell us. She told my wife, Amber, earlier that day. Amber, later at the dinner table, said, 鈥淓mma told me that she doesn鈥檛 believe in Santa anymore.鈥�
I had to stop eating and assess the situation as both ladies were staring at me as well as the dog, but that鈥檚 because I had pot roast dangling from my beard.
I didn鈥檛 answer right away because I鈥檝e been in that situation before. It was the Christmas of 2020, when Emma was questioning the existence of Santa Claus, and I was stuck to provide an answer. I had wanted to tell her the truth, but the expression on Amber鈥檚 face pretty much said, 鈥淢ake her believe or there鈥檚 no magic under the mistletoe for you.鈥�
Of course, I didn鈥檛 want Emma鈥檚 Christmas spirit to break, so I brought forth another one of my yes-Virginia-there-is-a-Santa-Claus moments and explained away her concerns and doubts, using the scapegoat of the pandemic and the aurora borealis. Either explanation normally seems to work.
However, Amber gave no such expression at the 2021 dinner table, so whatever argument Emma earlier put forth to her pretty much told Amber that the jig was finally up.
鈥淵es, Emma, you got us,鈥� I said. 鈥淪o which one of your punk friends at school told you? It鈥檚 that girl with the spiky hair and black lipstick, isn鈥檛 it?鈥�
Emma insisted that nobody told her, that she figured it out on her own last year and was just playing along. Whether she was being truthful about it or not, I don鈥檛 know, and I really can鈥檛 blame her. Let鈥檚 face it, her mother and I were the ones who have been deceiving her for years.
Turns out, she had more questions for us than I did for her.
鈥淪o it was you the whole time? How did you get the presents in the house? Did you write the letters to me? Did you buy and wrap all the presents? Did you eat all the cookies and drink the milk 鈥� oh, I guess you did, tubby. Are the Santas at the mall even helpers or are they just masochists who dress up to have kids whine to them, blow snot over them, have accidents on them and kick them in the shins?鈥�
Okay, that last question was one I鈥檝e been asking for years, but answering all of Emma鈥檚 questions made me feel like a magician giving away all of his secrets, which was why my answer to all of her questions was 鈥渕irrors.鈥�
It was also a chance to take credit for years of work up to and on Christmas Day for which Santa had been getting all the gold stars.
鈥淚 was up until 3 a.m. on Christmas Day moving a three-quarters-assembled Barbie Dream House from the attic to the living room.鈥�
鈥淢om said you were pounding eggnog and watching 鈥楧ie Hard鈥�.鈥�
鈥淚 did it all at once because I am legend!鈥�
Needless to say, she didn鈥檛 believe my feat was legendary. I guess it鈥檚 hard to be considered a legend when a dog is jumping up on you and tearing pot roast away from your facial hair.
At one point following dinner, Amber 鈥� still clinging on to the straws of living vicariously through Emma鈥檚 childhood 鈥� instructed me to say nothing about the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy.
I had to break it to her that there鈥檚 no point in doing so because a domino effect takes place with Santa being the biggest domino there is. Once that domino falls, it easily crushes the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and even Trunky, the Arbor Day Maple Tree.
Sure enough, Emma saw the Santa domino drop on the other mythical creatures, but that wasn鈥檛 my concern. What I did was contact friends and family to let them know I was finally set free from the Santa trap, which included no more Elf on the Shelf, which was a thorn in my holiday hump for years 鈥� hiding it every night or early morning from Thanksgiving to Christmas.
Even though Emma took the confirmation of her suspicions well, she didn鈥檛 agree to my suggestion of a ritual burning of the elf in the front lawn.
I know I鈥檓 gushing over the whole thing, but I have to admit there is a sadness that comes with it, too. It鈥檚 another page turning in the book of Emma鈥檚 life and once a new chapter begins, we can鈥檛 go back to experience that magic and innocence again. It鈥檚 now reserved only for our memories.
Sure, it was a genuine pain to assemble a Barbie Dream House at 3 a.m., but it was worth it to see Emma鈥檚 face light up with the awe and wonder that only Santa Claus can bring.
Let鈥檚 face it, the story of Santa Claus delivering that gift was way better than mine.
That鈥檚 why Santa is and always will be a true legend.
According to Hofmann is written by staff reporter Mark Hofmann of Rostraver Township. His books, 鈥淕ood Mourning! A Guide to Biting the Big One鈥nd Dying, Too鈥� and 鈥淪tupid Brain,鈥� are available on Amazon.com.