I was raised in a family of non-believers. God, Santa, the Tooth Fairy, all were identified as fictional, non-real, mythical, from the outset. Not coincidentally, holiday celebrations were haphazard and occasional. We hosted a passover seder a couple of times, would usually do something for thanksgiving, and would generally receive some sort of gift in the month preceding or following christmas.

My wife grew up in a family that was invested in the rituals of holidays. They were screwed up in a lot of ways, and I suspect that a lot of her over the top attitude toward holidays generally and christmas in particular comes from two sources: (1) christmas was a respite from the day to day strife as a child; and (2) she is determined that our daughter experience none of the disappointment she often did.

The result is a huge mismatch in expectations between me and my wife. For example, I believe that almost all exchanges of christmas gifts between adults are pointless.

Having a kid has changed my attitude, though. lots of the rituals bring her unfeigned joy. I still look at much of what we do as pointless and a theft of my leisure time (the amount of money and time we expend on the various bacchanals for grown ups is way over the top), but have come to love the rituals revolving around children and make believe.

I bet I would love being Santa for one season.

Incidentally, my daughter has acccepted that all religion is mythology, and that some religious beliefs are mean and immoral. She is still convinced that Santa is real, and Tinkerbell and the other fairies are real. I am very gratified by this.

I have to say, I’ve been feeling rather blah about the holidays this year, but this story brought all the merriment and contradictions and complexity and light of this season into my day. Thanks for that.

And congrats on your book!