I love Christmas and all the Christmas traditions — I love practically everything about the season — except for one itsy-bitsy complication: I’m Jewish. As much fun as dreidels and a well-lit menorah may be, they just can’t compete with an entire culture that goes Christmas-crazy every year.
But there’s one big Christmas tradition that always makes me glad I’m Jewish: I don’t have to do the Santa thing. Here’s why I’m glad for that …
1. I get credit for shopping. It takes a significant amount of time and expertise, even if you do it all on Amazon.
2. I get credit for buying. Look, kids, those gifts cost money. Mommy’s not letting a bunch of elves get all the glory while she spends her hard-earned cash.
3. I get credit for wrapping. You think it’s easy to wrap a basketball? It’s not. But I did it, so RESPECT, bitches.
4. No lugging my kids to the mall to make them sit on the lap of a strange man. Weirdest tradition ever, Gentiles.
5. No expensive wish lists. Yes, technically Santa’s elves could make you a giant flatscreen TV just as easily as they could make you an iPod, but they won’t, and I don’t have to justify the reason why.
6. No letters to Santa. Mail carriers are busy enough this time of year to have to deal with a bunch of letters with fake North Pole addresses on them. We’re practically saying, “Here, U.S. Postal Service. Throw these away for us.”
7. No Santa stalking. You know what I don’t want to do on Christmas Eve? Spend it obsessively checking a website or a Santa-tracking app to see if the sleigh has made it to our area.
8. No Santa suit for my husband. Trust me: No one looks good in that much red fabric. And, no, I won’t sit in your lap either.
9. No fake reindeer crap. Any tradition that involves fooling kids with excrement is a tradition I’m glad isn’t mine.
10. No cookies on a plate to feed an already overweight man. Our kids’ biggest hero is expected to eat cookies at every stop and still shove his fat ass down a chimney. No wonder obesity is such a problem these days.
11. No carrots or glittery food for the reindeer. God forbid Comet and Prancer get left out at snacktime.
12. No messy ashes tracked around the fireplace as evidence. If Santa can deliver to eleventy-billion homes in a single night, he can clean up after himself.
13. No whining on Christmas Day. Because they got up and Santa couldn’t find forgot to bring one of the 15 items on their wish list.
14. No sadness when the truth comes out. Yes, kids, Mommy has been lying to you all these years about an imaginary fat man who bends the laws of space and time while wearing a fluffy red suit. Stop crying. All the other parents are doing it.
15. My kids behave out of love and respect … not because of a naughty and nice list. No, I’m serious. They DO. Quit rolling your eyes, dammit.
Do your kids believe in Santa?
Are you glad your kids don't believe in Santa?