The Santa Card

I have something shameful to admit. I played the Santa card the other day. Andrew often does a terrible (even by a four year old's standards) job brushing his teeth. His job often consists of sucking the water out of the toothbrush and saying he's done. Well, the other day I lost it. I told him that Santa watches how you brush your teeth and if a child does a poor job of brushing, he will bring only a toothbrush and no toys.

I couldn't believe it. When we became parents, I wasn't even sure that I wanted to perpetuate the whole Santa Claus myth. Yet, in a moment of weakness, I pulled Santa out of my back pocket in order to obtain a desired behavior. I told my husband, Hugh, and he chuckled.

The whole incident reminded us of something that happened in Hugh's class a few years ago. He taught Junior Kindergarten (Andrew's current grade) for 11 years. For a large portion of that time, he worked with a very sweet paraprofessional. Well, a few years ago, he had a group of completely feral children. It was a few days before the Christmas break (not called that) and the students were just bouncing off the walls. His assistant had a moment and shouted that she was calling Santa that night to report all the naughty behavior. Oddly enough, the kids got the message and calmed down.

If I really want to be philosophical, it's amazing the power that fiction has in our lives. One fat, old guy in a funny red suit and kids will straighten up their behavior.