This Christmas Eve, I know what my husband and I will be doing: We ll be up a little too late stuffing stockings with stickers and sweets, arranging wish-list presents under the tree, and biting into the cookies they ve left for Santa. We ll leave the window half-open and the table by it askew, as if Big Red had to make a fast getaway before the kids woke up. We re not sure whether the oldest believes in him anymore, and even if she still does, I m sure we ll be found out soon. But until then, we re happy to stoke the fires of this holiday myth – as are many parents.