“Oh my goodness, is that the time? You kids better get ready for bed or Santa will skip right over our house,” Mary told her children.
This proclamation sent little Cindy scrambling, but her brother, Dennis, was more obstinate. “I want to wait up for Santa Claus.”
“You can’t wait up for Santa Claus,” his mother insisted. “Santa works only in secret, and if he sees you’re still awake when he comes, then he won’t come down the chimney and give you presents. He’ll just keep going to the other houses with good little children who are in bed, like they’re supposed to be.”
“What if I wait on the couch and pretend to be asleep?”
“He’ll know you’re faking. Santa always knows.”
Dennis’s face scrunched up as he looked for another loophole. He failed and grudgingly got up to get ready for bed.
When Jack went to tuck Cindy into bed, her eyes were already shut tight as she tried furiously to fall asleep and thereby bring about Santa with the power of her will. But when he got to his son’s room, Dennis was lying with his eyes open, not even pretending to try to fall asleep.
“Dad, is it true that Santa won’t come down the chimney if I’m awake when he gets here?”
“Of course not.” Jack looked over his shoulder to make sure his wife wasn’t listening before he said, in a lowered voice. “You remember when I read you ‘The Night Before Christmas’?’
“Uh huh.”
“Santa didn’t leave because he was awake, did he?”
Dennis shook his head.
“I think Santa would be delighted to meet you. His elves get to watch you all day long, but he never gets to meet the children he’s so busy making presents for.”
“So I can wait up for him?” Dennis’s eyes lit up and he raised his head slightly off his pillow.
“Absolutely.” Jack looked over his shoulder again. “But your mother can’t know about it. It’s best you wait in bed until you hear Santa’s reindeer on the roof, OK?”
Dennis nodded with all the seriousness of a CIA spy.
Jack kissed his son goodnight, tip toed out of his room, gently shut the door, and turned to see his wife standing in the hallway, looking at him with narrowed eyes and arms crossed. “How am I supposed to get the presents under the tree and in the stockings if Dennis stays up all night?”
Jack wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder and led her to their bedroom. He didn’t say anything until they were safely behind their closed door, and even then he kept his voice low. “Staying up all night is part of the solstice tradition. It’s important that someone wait up to see the sunrise. To make sure there is a sunrise and to greet the lengthening of days and shortening of nights.”
“There are several problems with that. The first being that you’re late by three nights.”
Jack flapped a hand in front of him to wave away her argument. “The exact night doesn’t matter. It’s the spirit that counts. Whole tribes and villages used to hold vigil over the longest night of the year. Now adults are too removed from nature to care about the solstice, so we bribe our children with the promise of presents to get them to stay up all night.”
“You still haven’t answered my question: how am I supposed to get the presents under the tree with our son staying up all night?”
“I told him to stay in bed until he hears reindeer on the roof. He’ll never make it. Give it a few hours and he’ll be sound asleep.”
“I was hoping to be sound asleep in a few hours.”
“I’ll set an alarm. Then we can get up, quietly slip the presents under the tree, and go back to bed. Dennis won’t have to know a thing.”
Mary sighed a long-suffering sigh, but she relented and climbed into bed with her husband.