Keeping the Spirit of the Season Means Keeping Up With the Joneses
Published December 17, 2006
My kids have recently begun to point out the inequities of Santa Claus on our block.
“How come Santa brings Lucy only one gift but he brings Matthew fourteen?” my son asked
a few days after Christmas last year.
“Maybe Lucy only needs one,” I gamble.
“Nobody only needs one present,” he argues. “Besides, if she only gets one gift a year that’
s like – only seven gifts her whole life so far, while Matthew is getting like – a million!”
“Wait a minute, how come one times seven is seven but 14 times seven is a million?” I ask.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“And another thing,” my oldest chimes in. “The kid up the street got an I-Pod, an I-Dog and
a PC, but Santa can only bring me a bunch of clothes? How come I couldn’t get all that other
stuff, too?”
“I don’t know but I feel a headache coming on. Must be all the fudge.”
“You’re changing the subject again.”
“Yeah, mom, how come Santa doesn’t bring everybody the same amount of presents?” my
youngest gets in on the action.
“More importantly,” my oldest and therefore wisest opines, “why don’t we get more gifts?”
“Hey, even Jesus only got three,” I remind them all. “Who am I to one-up Mary?”
That silences them for a moment. But really, just what exactly is a parent to do when
keeping the spirit of the season means keeping up with the Joneses?
Like the houses on our street, it seems parenting philosophies run the gamut. At the top of
the hill we have one group of friends who lavish their children with a bountiful booty each
Christmas and, having known them long enough to judge, all the spoils don’t seem to spoil the
kids one bit. On the other end of the road is a group so Spartan they literally return gifts
unopened if well-meaning relatives get a little too generous. They, too, have wonderful
offspring. Seeing as how the middle ground is a place I like to frequent, I find myself squarely
there, making the most of the season while lavishing a little – but still leaving them wanting
more.
The day after Halloween, my kids start making wish lists. Their requests are revised and
fine tuned right up until December 24th, which has caused considerable anxiety for Santa over
the years, as you might imagine. They scan catalogues and websites and the toy chests of our
neighbors, and determine exactly what it is they can’t live without. The list is long – though
usually quite reasonable – and then Santa, in his infinite wisdom, puts whatever he wants to
under the tree. This system has been fail-proof over the years and more importantly, it has
been widely unknown to anyone outside our home.
But alas, kids grow up and, darn them, they start comparing notes with each other.
Hence, the problem of Santa’s inequity.
Quite frankly, I’m at a loss. Maybe all the neighbors need to get together and make a pact,
but who’s philosophy would we employ?
In the end we must respect each other’s choices in how to handle Christmas, just as we
would in other parenting matters. It might be tough to explain to the kids, but so is war and
terrorism and the birds and the bees and bullies. No one ever said it was easy. And no one
knows our kids better than we do. Except, of course, for Santa.