I did a stupid thing last night. Or, actually, what I forgot to do was the stupid part. My wee boy lost another tooth yesterday, and was immediately excited about the tooth fairy. He had clearly, or conveniently, forgotten that his dad had told him well over a year ago that such a thing didn’t exist. You wouldn’t have thought that he’d ever been told this morning, when he came in crying because the tooth was still under his pillow. Feeling terrible, I snuck a pound in when he was out of his room, and encouraged him to look again. It was only about an hour later that he thanked me for it, showing that he knew fine well it had been his parents all along. Still, it will take me a while to forget his visible heart-break as he realised that the magic was entirely made up. I’m not happy about the part I played in that.
I know that many parents don’t hold with ‘lying’ to their children about fictional things. I disagree with that stance though. I think, for a little person, imagination is vital. To experience that breath-taking moment of discovering that something good has been done for you, to wonder how it had happened, to realise that somebody or something thought of you, that affirms a person. Life is hard, but when the world of make-believe comes in, from time to time, it’s sure to make you smile.
I love how ecstatic my two get on Christmas Day and I’m not looking forward to the moment when the magic of it all leaves them.
Although, it is possible to never grow out of it completely. I hope I haven’t. Ho ho ho.