Those were just about the first words from my 3rd grade grandson last week when we had lunch on his birthday. Very serious words. Straining to have a matter-of-fact tone. "Grammy, you should know this. (he squares around to face me directly now) There is NO Santa Claus." "Really," I say, "when did you find this out?" "About two weeks ago, he says." It's clear to see this information is still being processed. So we have the Grammy version of the 'Santa talk.' I've always thought of it as the precursor to the 'birds and bees talk' which (hopefully) comes later via his parents. We commiserate about this turn of events, then talk about the symbolism of Santa (our giving hearts, generosity, celebration, etc.), then on to what he wants for Christmas. By now he's munching on his favorite candy, Mike and Ike. His teacher, who asked upon my arrival if I was his Mother, is now staring at us and his candy. Well, I don't blame him. I taste his school lunch. This is a childhood milestone - for this young boy, it's the loss of a second hero in a short little life.