Roger Moroney is an award-winning journalist for Hawke's Bay Today and observer of the slightly off-centre.
COMMENT
One of the trickiest questions I had to answer when the kids were very little was the Santa question.
Not so much "is there really a Santa Claus?" but more along the lines of "how many Santas are there?"
For it was verging on Christmas Eve a good few decades back when we had taken our little girls to town, where in one of the big stores there was a really well-crafted Santa's grotto, and he even had a couple of fairy helpers at the door to it. I think they actually worked in the clothing department but that's by the by.
So yep, took them to see and meet Santa and they got a little wrapped cookie or a chocky or something and were delighted, because the bloke wearing suit and bearing the great white beard looked thoroughly majestic and convincing.
Shortly afterwards, on the way back to the old Vauxhall Viva, we walked past another store and there in the doorway was ... Santa Claus.
And on the drive home past a suburban shopping centre there outside one of the stores was ... Santa Claus.
So the question was inevitable.
With a quizzical face one of the little'uns asked how come there was more than one Santa?
I was going to try the old line about how he can move magically and mysteriously from one site to another in mere seconds, but realised that would not have worked as the suburban Santa we sighted had a beard more like a shredded white flannel rather than bushy hair.
"Representatives," I blurted.
"Ambassadors."
I then explained (or attempted to explain) that Santa Claus was so very, very busy at his digs up by the North Pole because there was so much packing to do and he had to sort out an employment issue with the trade union bloke representing the reindeer.
So he "employed" ambassadors who were sent all around the world to spread his Christmas word and to tell the youngsters to be good because then they would get a present.
That seemed to sort it, until later I was asked how come he could take something to every girl and boy around the whole world on that single Christmas Eve night?
"He has the ability to make time stand still," I replied, adding that he could stop the clocks and spend the equivalent of about 11 days delivering while the clocks all stayed still in time.
That kind of worked.
What did cause a couple of frowns though was the chimney question.
For in the colourful Santa books the old bloke, despite nudging what is medically termed obesity, would clamber down chimneys ... without leaving a mess ... not even a smidgen of soot on the gifts delivered.
At this stage we had closed our chimney off, so there was some bewilderment on the faces of the little believers.
"How's he going to get in?"
I looked at the closed chimney, and looked at the faces before me as this was a very good question.
I gave them the answer I would give our little boy several years later at our new house which had a built-in fire thing and only a pipe leading up to the chimney top.
"Oh we leave a key in the letterbox for him," I said.
"Most people do that now as it's far easier for old Santa."
They weren't so convinced, so on Christmas Eve as they began to slumber I shuffled past their room toward the door declaring "oh, better get this key out to the letterbox."
But I think my most triumphant "there is a Santa" moment was what has become known as "the hand".
When I was a lad, Dad would leave a bottle of soft drink on the floor by the tree and on Christmas morning it would be empty!
Proof he had been. So I left "the hand" as proof.
I cut out a tracing of my hand, adding size to it to make it untraceable of course, and placed the stencil on a sheet of paper, which was a note thanking Santa, and rubbed cocoa upon it leaving a mysterious hand print.
The lad found it by the toys on his bed and I nodded wisely and said "ahh ... got him."
I explained that I'd left cocoa on the door handle and when Santa came in he'd get it on his hand and leave a trace somewhere, which he did after picking up our note to him.
The boy treasured that cocoa print and yep, it's stored away somewhere still.
Crikey - I hope he's not reading this. Don't want anyone to have any doubts about Santa at this special time.
Merry festiveness one and all.