The following is a true story. No facts have been altered to protect the innocent, nor have any names been changed. However, if you are a child and you are still a believer, I would NOT read any more of this article. However, if you are still a believer and want your innocence crushed and discarded like a piece of wrapping paper on Christmas day, or just don’t believe any more, read on!
And if you aren’t clear what “a believer” is (and no, I’m not talking “Belieber” here, there is nothing to do with Justin Beiber), be sure to read my article “The Santa Believer Clause“. There is a certain point in one’s life where the belief in the magical fades away into the distance … and I lost a bit of that this year.
My oldest daughter knows the truth about Santa and how he is in cahoots with us, the parents. It’s the only way that Santa can get all of those presents to all of the kids around the world — he has to empower the parents as his deputies. So she knows that the presents are “from him” via us.
My youngest daughter is a full believer and her eyes twinkle with the Christmas magic. She LOVES the concept of Santa and what he brings. She did inquire this year about how we could see him on our indoor webcam — so I had to do some quick thinking about that to keep the magic alive — “Think about how many houses he has to go to around the world — he has to move so fast that he spends mili-seconds at every house — the camera wouldn’t be able to catch him!” Whew!
My middle daughter is on the fence. She still receives presents because she believes, but that belief is starting to wane a bit and skepticism is breaking through.
But let me get to the story that happened on Christmas Eve. My middle daughter, the skeptic, had a wiggly tooth, which finally came out on Christmas Eve. We, as usual, told her to put it under her pillow and since Santa had enlisted out help to wrap and distribute presents that night, we knew that we would be up very late and could handle helping out the Tooth Fairy as well.
So, we put the kids to bed as early as we could. They were literally floating an inch over the bed. On some nights my youngest and middle ones sleep together in a full size bed, and Christmas Eve was no exception. We practically had to tape their eyes shut so that they would go to sleep. Finally they were deep in sleep…
Late into the night, after much of the presents had been wrapped, I decided to do my duty as ordained by the Tooth Fairy and buy back the lost tooth. I quietly snuck into their room, slid the tooth out from under the pillow (a plastic ziplock baggie is really the best way to go), and replaced it with the money the Tooth Fair had provided. And I got out, without them waking up.
The next morning, I was confronted by them — “So, YOU are the Tooth Fairy.” I knew the game was over and I realized why Christmas Eve of all nights was the worst one to help the Tooth Fairy out. I remember when I was a child and how hard it was to sleep, waiting in anticipation for Santa to come and deliver presents. I barely slept and when I did, I was only 1/2 asleep. So, this time, I was caught. And my sleep-deprived brain couldn’t think up an excuse fast enough.
The good news is, Santa still remains pure and magic in their hearts … but the Tooth Fairy not so much so.
The moral of the story is, if your child loses a tooth on Christmas Eve, wait a day and give them an excuse that Santa and the Tooth Fairy can’t deliver on the same day because of “logistics” (use a big word like that to clarify it all with them). Trust me, you will come out ahead and keep the magic alive a bit longer.
How do you keep the magic alive?