Sitting with my boys to write letters to Santa might be one of my favorite holiday rituals–the care with which they consider the ask, the penmanship, and even their sensitivity to S.C.’s demanding job. But the more questions I get about logistics–how the jolly fella manages to circle the globe in an evening, how he fits all of those gifts in the sleigh, to say nothing of those children who don’t have chimneys–the deeper I dig myself into a web of vague, if benign, falsehoods. My kids are 8 and 5 and I fear my 5-year-old is a bit more of a Columbo than his wide-eyed brother in terms of sniffing out the inconsistencies. I know I only have a couple more years, but I do struggle with the deception, however sweet. I always say when pressed that “I’ve never met Santa, and that it’s more about Christmas spirit, but I’ve heard….” fill-the-blank “he likes cookies,” or “he has helpers, possibly elves…” (I always go back to one of my favorite sayings from a labor lawyer friend, “If you’re talking, you’re losing.”) When it’s vague it’s Okay, when I start answering questions about why Santa brings Lego brand toys when he and the elves are supposed to be making all of the toys themselves, then I start feeling guilty. I’d love to hear if anyone else is ambivalent about the whole magical charade and how they handle it.