Santa Claus

There are 2 questions that spell certain doom for any adult working in an elementary school: (1) where do babies come from? (which for many children the answer begins some freak Freudian preoccupation with beaked creatures that take flight), and (2) Is Santa Claus real?

There I was, cornered in the cafeteria, with 3 pairs of innocent eyes (Bambi comes to mind) intently fixated on every flinch, twist, and hesitation of my facial expressions. Their suspicion had already been heightened; some twat at recess had started rumors.

This leaves an adult in a precarious situation; who is responsible for spilling the beans? I had to think fast … and I refuse to lie to children.

"Well, young men of the world," I began, desperately trying to stay afloat without crushing these boys' dreams (and quite possibly starting an incident that would require a crisis-counseling intervention team) … and then it dawned on me.

"When you believe in Santa Claus you get loads of gifts at Christmas," I began. "One day I decided to stop believing in Santa, and the next Christmas my entire tree and underneath was bare, bare I tell you!!!"

They all recoiled and gasped in horror.

But I did not tell a lie …