My two kids are at such a wondrous age. There are times I wish I could freeze time so that they don't change and aren't influenced by outside forces. My son, 5, and daughter, who turns 4 this weekend, are affectionate, good hearted and still think their parents are the coolest people in the world. Yes, I want them to grow into responsible, well-adjusted adults, blah blah blah, but I'm in no hurry.

With the holidays approaching, their adorable factor has kicked into high gear. My wife and I smile like loons as they belt out Christmas songs during car trips. True, they might not know all the words. While singing "Go Tell It on the Mountain" my son corrected my daughter that the lyrics were "Jesus Christ is born, not Jesus Bryce." But their enthusiasm and ad-libbing is what makes it so special.

My son started kindergarten this year in the Lake Central school district. He's learning many good things, but does come home with less that desirable information from those "outside influences."

A few weeks ago, he made a startling proclamation that he'd heard at his after-school program. He said, "An older girl at Adventure Club said there isn't a Santa Claus."

All the air left the room and time stood still. I looked at my wife with an expression on my face that was part "Holy cow! What do we do?!" and another part "If I get my hands on the fourth-grade hooligan that said this to my son, I'm going to wring her neck until she cries for Santa, the Easter Bunny AND the Tooth Fairy to save her."

My mind flashed to the fateful day when I was told the big guy in the red suit was just a myth. I was in second grade and stayed after school to help my teacher and another student decorate the room for Christmas. As we taped cardboard snowflakes to the walls, my classmate told our teacher the story of when she found out the truth about Santa. My teacher chuckled at the tale, then turned to me asking "So when did you find out Santa wasn't real, Bob?"

As my mind screamed "Right now," I tried to laugh it off and said I'd known for quite some time. I made a beeline home that afternoon to confront my mother. I ran into the kitchen and demanded the truth from her: Was Santa Claus real?!

"As long as you believe in him, he's real," she replied.

I was hurt at the time. I felt like she lied to me, even though I was reminded later that, due to legal parental loopholes, she was not guilty on all charges. I promised myself that I'd never lie to my children.

This thought was at the forefront of my mind as I looked into my child's eyes and said, "Of course there's a Santa Claus! Who do you think brought you all those presents last year? Mommy and daddy?"

He smiled at me, content with my answer. Thankfully those parental loopholes now work in my favor.

The opinions are solely those of the writer.