Why aren’t we talking about narwhals?

I waited until my husband and I were alone to ask him. (In the car. On the way home from Target.)

“I need to ask you something,” I said, “and I need you to not make me feel stupid about it.”

“Okay . . .” he said.

“Okay . . .”

“Okay?”

I cleared my throat. “You know, um, narwhals?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re not . . . real, are they?

As I said it, I realized that this was exactly how our oldest son framed his first question about Santa Claus. (“You know, um, Santa Claus? He’s not real, is he?”)

My husband turned...