Picked up my fourth-grader and his friend from school today. (They share the same name and call each other Mr. S and Mr. L) My son (Mr. L) is taking a Young Entrepreneurs class where they are charged with creating a product to sell to fellow students. The two boys were discussing what would be cool.
Mr. S: Action figures.
Mr. L: It needs to be for both boys and girls.
Mr. S: Well, then you can have Desperate Housewives and Samurai Warriors action figures.
I suggested a Pencil Snuggie, which was met by blank stares. The conversation moved on to a pan-theological comparison of gifting.
Mr. L: I got a Tech Deck for Hannukah. What sorts of things do you get for Christmas?
Mr. L: Is there really a Santa?
Mr. S: What do you believe?
Mr. L: Well, I think he’s part real, part make believe. Like, there is a fat guy in a red suit…
Mr. S: Who lives on the North Pole and rides in a sleigh pulled by reindeer?
Mr. L: No, that’s the part that’s make-believe. I think he rides around in a low-flying plane.
Mr. S: Well, then there’s a little bit of Santa in everyone. (spiritual pause) I’m just repeating what my mom said.
The conversation digressed.
Mr. S: Where do you think you want to go to college?
Mr. L: I have no idea.
Mr. S: Well, it’s in 8 years.
Mr. S: I want to get a full scholarship to Princeton and study literature and acting.
So now I’m in a full panic. Is it because my 9-year-old does not yet have his eye on a prestigious academic institution or a focus of erudite study?
No. It’s because I don’t believe in Santa, whether friending antlered mammals or soaring in a homemade weather balloon or working for the Treasury Department, who can make our kids’ college accounts flush in 8 years.
Blessing – Driving carpool. You just can’t make this stuff up.