A tale for the holidays

"Daddy, do you think the reindeer hold it when they are flying? Or is it like birds and it just comes out whenever?"

"That's a good question. You'd have to ask Santa about that."

"Have you ever seen a reindeer's?" ( At the age of seven, all things scat interested me. I had noted the differences in the excrement of birds, dogs, fish, rabbits and myself. Also, I refused to believe that "horseshit" really was. Looked like muffins to me. It wouldn't be until age 9 that I would actually see it "coming out"* and then there was no question about it.)

"Well, I've seen deer excrement and it's similar to a rabbit's pellets, only bigger."

"Ohhhhhh." I said, envisioning the larger version of rabbit turd in my head.

"Daddy?"

"Yes."

"If they hold it when they are flying, that means they must do it while they're stopped and Santa's delivering the presents down the chimney, right?"

"Well, I suppose so, yes."

"Oh boy, I'm going to check outside the house first thing Christmas morning!"

"Don't you want to open your presents first?"

I remember thinking about this hard. What a choice! I wanted to do both things first thing, but couldn't figure out what I wanted to do first-first.

"I want to check outside first." I finally said, knowing the presents would still be there, but maybe someone would STEAL any reindeer shit outside.

On Christmas morning, I went outside and checked for anything that might have fallen off the roof the night before. And I found something! Three little balls, just like rabbit poo only bigger. My heart beat faster and I picked up the three balls of reindeer dung and ran back into the house. My parents were there by the tree grinning wildly in their pajamas. The plate of cookies and the glass of milk that I had left out for Santa had been consumed. Dozens of presents filled the space under the tree.

"Mommy, Daddy look!" I ran up to them with my hands open displaying three precious reindeer nuggets. "It's reindeer bathroom from Santa's reindeer." (Bathroom was a code-word for shit in our house.)

"Here let me see." Mom said, taking one of the balls from my palm.

"Delicious!" she exlcaimed while popping it into her mouth and rapidly chewing it up. "Didn't you know that Santa's reindeer poop chocolate?"

My first reaction was horror, Mom just destroyed one of only three morsels that I had found. But then I wanted to taste it too. So I bit a little piece of one to make sure she was telling the truth. Indeed, it was chocolate.

"Wait, Daddy, you didn't say anything about that. How come?"

"Well, son, you didn't ask and anyway, I thought you knew. You only asked me if I knew where they did it. I've never met anyone who actually found some, but everyone knows they're chocolate. You're a lucky little boy."

My curiosity thus satisfied and my Christmas knowledge now expanded, I tore into the presents. I kept the remaining chocolate in my toybox for safekeeping.

The following year I learned at school that the Santa story wasn't real and that anything happening around Christmas with Santa was a lie. I confronted my parents who confirmed this.

"But what about the cookies and the milk?"

"Well, we ate them and drank it after you went to bed."

"And the chocolate? The chocolate that I found?" I somehow felt that I was a "special" kid because I was in possession of Santa's magical chocolate reindeer poo.

Sigh, "We put that out for you to find."

And then I mourned. And I resisted the knowledge and wished it away. I know that feeling well now. It was the first instance of the feeling of lost innocence.


*Other terms considered here include: emerging, cresting, issuing forth, crowning, seeing daylight, being extruded, finding Nemo, exiting, and squishing through. What? Don't give me that look. This is how I keep in touch with my inner child.