Would I Lie to You? Yes.
“I thought you were brushing your teeth?” The Animal called out from his bedroom, as I reached the top step. My wife and daughter weren’t home yet, but it was late and my son was already in bed and waiting for me to tuck him in.
I answered him from across the way in his sister’s room, where I was dropping off a pile of clean laundry. “Remember, I told you I already brushed my teeth earlier?”
“Well,” he replied, “I thought you might be lying.”
“What? I don’t lie. Especially not to you.”
“Oh yeah?” I could tell from his tone I was about to be called out. “What about the Easter Bunny and Santa? Huh!?”
Uh-oh. The Animal had just turned 10, so I wasn’t all that surprised at his skepticism. But I certainly wasn’t prepared for this. I was the only parent home at the time, and this sounded like something that called for an executive decision. But without the other executive around, I wasn’t sure if I had the authority to make such a decision.
So, putting on my best poker face (I’m terrible at poker, btw), I walked over to his room to try and squirm my way out of this. As I stepped through the doorway, I turned to see him lying in bed, already giving me his don’t-give-me-that-crap look.
I tried to play it cool. “Whadda you mean, buddy? What about Santa and the Easter Bunny?”
“Dadda. Com’ on. Are you trying to tell me that every Easter a giant bunny breaks into our house and hides plastic eggs all over the place?”
“Well, yeah! Why not? You’ve seen all the bunny footprints, right?” Every year I use flour to put “bunny footprints” all over the carpet and on the upholstery. A fun little trick I learned from my mom.
“Dadda. It’s just powder. And if it was real, how come he never leaves any footprints at John or Logan’s house, hmm?”
By this time I was visibly cracking up. I couldn’t help it. “Who knows?” I said. “Maybe they have hardwood floors or something and it doesn’t show up?”
The Animal was not amused. “Dadda. Please. AND ANOTHER THING…how did a giant bunny get all wrapped up with the Resurrection? I mean, it has nothing to do with it. Santa, too. I mean, what does some old fat man with a beard and a bunch of reindeer have to do with the birth of Jesus?”
Well, I thought, at least his Catholic education was showing some return on investment.
I could’ve ended all the nonsense right then and there. I have to admit I’m getting a little tired of all the sneaking around during the holidays. On top of that, t’s about time my wife and I got some credit for all the presents we give them on Christmas and Easter. And it’s way past time that Elf-On-The-Shelf became the Elf-In-The-Garbage-Can.
But he’s still Mama and Dadda’s little guy, and at that moment I just didn’t feel I had the authority to officially put an end to the magic. So I just did what I’d been doing for the past ten years: I lied right to his face.
“I don’t know, buddy,” I said. “They sure seem real to me.”
“OK. Bye-bye,” he said—his standard response when he’s finished talking to me. Then he just rolled over and snuggled up with his trusty “Blankie.”
At least that’s something he can still believe in. ~
Awe, too early for me to have him not believe. Why does he have to be so smart??love that little guy!❤❤❤❤???
I can’t wait to see what vocation he chooses! And I like the middle of the road/cave in kind of answers – Doesn’t the Easter Bunny and Santa need helpers? They are getting up there in age you know. LOL
LOL Great story! I’m going to purchase your book BIGFOOT SLEPT HERE. I’m next to you in the BEAVER COUNTY TIMES Page Turners Profile! My next book is set in Beaver and I look forward to reading your book! 🙂
Thanks, Susan! Always good to connect with other local writers. I hope the Times article gets you a bunch of new readers. ; )