With December upon us, I have seen many pictures on Facebook of crying erratic children trying to get away from Santa Claus. I giggle and grin because I remember this same traumatic event occurring with each of my children. This caused me a pause and think about the legends that we tell our kids during the holiday season. First we have the Elf on the Shelf. He is a tiny magical man who flies to your home to watch your children and report back to Santa to compile a list of naughty and nice children. Next we have the big man, Santa. He is an elderly bearded fat man who breaks into your home at night to leave you gifts or perhaps coal, based on said list from above. Last we have several songs, movies, and various traditions that we perform each year that continue to amaze me.

Elfie has become a nationwide sensation. You can spot him in homes across the globe. His devilish grin and knack for high-jinks is second to none. Not only is the Elf a bona-fide snitch, but he is creepy and he hides each night when the kids go to bed. Is there any other time of the year that we would allow a small man to come into our homes and watch our children? I can’t think of a time when I have said to my husband, “We need a babysitter, how about that weird man who hangs out at the park? He looks like a bit of a scamp. I’ll see if he wants to babysit.”

Chris Cringle, the legend that is Santa. Don’t get me wrong, I love that jolly fat man. I just find it odd that we force our children each year to sit on the lap of a bearded, fat stranger, who we know nothing about. I am guessing he passed some type of background check, but what if Santa has a taste for the night life and still has a handful of ruffies in his pocket. We tell our children on a daily basis to watch for “Stranger Danger” but we push, pull and drag them up to Santa and beg them to sit on the “nice mans” lap. I am not throwing stones, I myself have paid an exorbitant amount of money to have my three-year old sit on Santa’s lap, only to tell me a few minutes later that he smelled like Mommy’s breath after I drank some Mommy juice, AKA wine.

Take a minute and think about all of the Christmas carols that we sing each year. The downtrodden bullied reindeer Rudolph has a solid moral plot. I am always a fan of an underdog, but what about the lyrics to Santa Claus is Coming to Town? Take a look below:

You better watch out
You better not cry
Better not pout
I’m telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town

He’s making a list
And checking it twice;
He’s gonna find out
Who’s naughty and nice
Santa Claus is coming to town

He sees you when you’re sleeping
He knows when you’re awake
He knows if you’ve been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!

Once again I have to wonder. Why can Santa see my children when they are sleeping and when they are awake? Should I be concerned enough to file a restraining order? I am positive that I don’t want an old creepy man lurking around my house at night checking to see if the children are behaving. I have a flip-flop for that. On a side note, what is Mommy doing kissing Santa Claus? Men, you better keep your women in check this year. I hear the UPS man is wearing a red hat during deliveries, and his package can be quite the load.

But I digress. I do love the holidays and I do love all of the traditions that give me a bit of leverage with my three children at this time of year. Greed is a very powerful driving force. If I have to use a fat man and a creepy dwarf to get my kids to behave in order to obtain a video game system, then by all means…..Merry Christmas.