If nothing else, getting married is about traditions. Something old, something new, yada yada. We all know it. Did he just yada yada something borrowed something blue? Yes he did. I digress. Whether holidays, or losing teeth, or whatever, there are traditions involved. When you get married, you have to find a way to accommodate those traditions between you and your spouse. How do you prep for Santa? How do you deal with lost teeth? Church? Dinner? The wedding is the first test of this. For me, I established that I am the boss because she does what she tells me to do. Christmas is probably the biggest annual point where this comes to light. When you open presents, hand the stockings, how long the tree is up. Each family seems to have a different take. How old do you tell your kids about Santa, the Easter Bunny, the truth about Kwanza, or the Tooth Fairy? Some of this eventually happens on it’s own. My philosophy growing up was as long as they kept delivering, I was going to keep believing. Either way, this is something that needs to be established so you can seem credible as the kids separate you and interrogate you for details about how the next mythical being is supposed to interact with them. The other solution is my personal technique when cornered like this, “That’s nice dear, go ask your mother.”


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