She was in one of her moods.

I say “she” because although she is only 6, the time will come when she’s a self-conscious teenager who’d be mortified to know that her grandmama years earlier had mentioned her by name in a column.

And yes, 6-year-olds do have their moods. She had one the other day at a “Breakfast with Santa.” Her 3-year-old brother marched right up to Santa, but she refused to go, and no amount of coaxing changed her mind. Her parents shrugged and let her be, but I couldn’t resist trying again.

“You know,” I said as I sipped my coffee and she sipped her water, “this could be your last chance to tell Santa what you want for Christmas.” “Mommy already sent him my list,” she replied coolly. And then added, “Besides, that’s not the real Santa Claus. It’s just a guy in a costume.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of a clever rebuttal. Her daddy tried to help, chiming in with, “Well, he has men who fill in for him because he can’t be everywhere at once.” “Right,” I added. “They have contracts with Santa to make appearances on his behalf.”

She looked at us with an expression that said, Y’all are so pathetic, and resolutely stayed in her chair until it was time to leave.

This was the second time she and I had talked briefly about Santa Claus, the first time being when she was on the verge of getting in trouble with her parents for intentionally provoking her brother. I suggested that I might even feel compelled to let Santa know about this naughtiness.

“You can’t call Santa Claus, Grandmama. He lives at the North Pole,” she replied.

“They have cell service at the North Pole,” I said, crossing my fingers under the table.

“But you don’t know his phone number,” she countered.

“You don’t know whether I do or don’t know it,” I said.

And then a voice in my head said to me, Drop it. You are getting way too close to the question of Santa’s very existence.

So I dropped the subject like a hot lump of coal, and she and I haven’t talked about the old man since we had breakfast with one of his subcontractors. After all, it’s not a grandparent’s place to interfere with or try to influence when and how a child learns that there’s no Santa Claus.

Despite all the parental reminders about the sweet New York Sun editorial published in 1897 that assures us “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” the truth is, it won’t be long until she concludes — if she hasn’t already — that “No, (unidentified grandchild), there is no Santa Claus.” And that’ll be that.

But does it have to be?

Maybe instead of rejecting the story in toto, she can segue into an understanding that the pretense is part of the magic of Christmas for little kids and represents the spirit of the season for the rest of us, young and not-so-young. The stories, paintings, movies, gift-wrapping paper and giant inflatables can be jolly symbols of holiday fun for her and everybody else.

As for the particulars of how she transitions to a more realistic and nuanced understanding of the secular side of Christmas, that’ll be part of her life story. My story includes a clear memory of the day I heard the first disturbing rumors about Santa Claus.

I was 4 years old and playing outside with my three older brothers. Mama was inside our house with one of her friends. I don’t recall how the subject came up, but it did, and one of my brothers rudely blurted, “There’s no such thing as Santa Claus.” The other two nodded in agreement.

I hopped off my tricycle like it was on fire and rushed into the house, sobbing about what I’d heard and begging our mother to tell me the truth. And she did: “Of course there’s a Santa Claus. Your brothers were just teasing you.”

I don’t know what she said to them later, and I don’t recall when I finally figured out the truth. Not that it matters. I have had many a jolly Christmas over the years, even though no, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus.

As I hope Adele — OMG, I mean the unidentified 6-year-old — will eventually agree, the subcontractor in the red Santa suit is all part of the fun.

Merry Christmas.

Frances Coleman is a former editorial page editor of the Mobile Press-Register. Email her at [email protected] and “like” her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/prfrances.