How Baby

We’re reaching the twilight years of the Santa Illusion, I think. I don’t see the cracks yet, but it’s getting harder to shield her from media that just, you know, assumes the kid’s already in the know. Like, she found the Simpsons Christmas Special – which is pretty tame as far as Simpsons humour goes – but I’d forgotten the plot about Barney getting a job as a mall Santa. Somehow, our normally very critical Momo has not yet realized that every mall has a different Santa (or that the Santa at her school party was clearly an Indian high school student volunteering with the younger kids).

We’re pretty explicit about other worldly truths when it comes to Momo – she knows about bodies, and babies, and death, and swearing, but I think… I think there are some things that I want to preserve for her, out of the duty to give her childhood a sense of wonder. So I really feel this these days, these dwindling years of her believing in magical, wonderful things with her whole heart. By this time next year, she might have figured it out, and we’ll have had the ‘now you get to become a Santa like mommy and daddy‘ conversation. For now, I’m just deep in my feels about wonder.

—

“All right,” said Susan. “I’m not stupid. You’re saying humans need… fantasies to make life bearable.”

REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.

“Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—”

YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.

“So we can believe the big ones?”

YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.

“They’re not the same at all!”

YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET—Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME…SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.

“Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what’s the point—”

MY POINT EXACTLY.” 

– Terry Pratchett, Hogfather