A few days passed, and Jay asked me a surprising question. “Dad, how did I get from your bed to mine?” Ever the clever one, I said, “Santa moved you! Isn’t that fun?!” He said nothing, walking into the hall and looking closely at the floor. He came back, arms folded. “Dad, we need to talk, but Mom can’t hear. Santa either wears the same cologne as you do, or you are Santa Claus!” I was stunned. “Look at the wheel marks on the carpet. The stereo was rolled out of that bedroom and down the hallway.”
My first thought was: Are you kidding me? The kid was only six, and he busted me with circumstantial evidence. His big concern: that we not tell his mother, because he was certain she didn’t know. “It will be our little secret,” I told him, much to his delight. “We men have to stick together.”
After that, the real fun began. Jay got to be Santa when we donated presents to a needy family—he just loved it. Then, little brother Jordan was born, and Jay continued to play along. We actually got the most joy from Santa when Jay kept the magic alive with us. Christmas is still a special time around the McGraw household. Robin and I now have a few grandchildren to shop for. The only stipulation when it comes to gifts is that I don’t have to build it. The last time I tried to fix something—my ’57 Chevy—I ended up taking it to a garage, where it was stolen! Since I’m sure Reader’s Digest makes it to the North Pole, I must take this time to remind Santa that I’d love to have that car back. Unless, of course, he’s using it to deliver his hoard of presents.
Phil McGraw is the author of Life Code: The New Rules for Winning in the Real World (Bird Street Books, $26; available exclusively
at thebooknook.com). His television show, Dr. Phil, airs weekdays; check local listings.