Honesty Sought, Innocence Lost.

It was a night that started like any other...
Dylan and I were home while Kim was at work. Everything was going great, Dinner was good. Dishes done and animals taken care of and medicated. Dylan was finishing an 80 page book that he just started 2 hours earlier. That’s right, 80 pages on his own! I was very proud of him and happy to see he chose a book over a video game. All the homework was done the night before so things were good. No school the next day so staying up a little later and waiting for mom not a big deal. We brush our teeth, floss and do a fluoride rinse and its off to bed to snuggle a bit before mom gets home to officially send him to the land of Nod. That’s when he drops a huge question on me, prefaced with the statement, “Now be really truthful with your answer” (I was scared, I new I was going to get blind sided the minute he said, “hey dad”) This is the moment Kim and I have discussed for a year now, the very question we had hoped to talk to him about before he had to ask, the question that we even went so far as to seek the advice of a professional on how to answer. The moment of truth and here I was alone (without Kim) All the things I thought I would say flashed before me as if on a Teleprompter that I couldn’t read.
The question...
and no, it wasn’t the Birds and the Bees talk, that was easy and happened a while ago. No this one was up to this point in his life, the mother of all questions...

Is Santa real? (it seems that a bunch of kids sold the Jolly Ol’ Fat Man down the river and ratted out us parents and he wanted the straight story)

Just like my kid to face the issue head-on unlike me who never really wanted to hear the answer. I was happy figuring it out and just playing along.

So I give him the truth and he quickly makes the leap from Santa to the Easter Bunny and then with tears in his eyes he looks at me, hoping against hope that he is going to hear the answer he wants, he asks if its us who give him the money for his tooth, or if there is really a tooth fairy. I thought of all the scenarios to keep this shred of innocence in tack, but in the end, I also wanted out from under the guilt of these little (yet giant) lies that every parent tells their children. Again, I gave him the truth and followed it with an explanation of how these traditions come about and how it may have to wait until he’s a father to understand them, but one day he will understand.

Thank God Kim walks into the house right about now and I explain what were talking about and she helps soften the blow by telling him that Santa, The Easter Bunny and Tooth fairy all exist, just not in the same way that he invisioned, yes it was indeed us, but there was a definite spirit of Christmas and Easter that the whole world shared and took part in and the world was a better place during this period of time every year, year after year and that to believe in the magic was to ensure that it carried on and this special time could be shared by future generations.

His feeling were still hurt and I think he feels the loss of that belief more than he let on, but in the end, I think in talking it out we all came away with a better understanding of what Santa actually is. It’s not one set a parents, its a whole group of people making up the millions of families that celebrate Christmas that keep the fires of the holiday spirit burning and alive and healthy. I came away feeling the whole thing was much less a lie and much an interactive legend that he can now help participate in, now he can be part of the club that keeps the magic alive by giving in the name of Santa as well as receiving. He in turn becomes the Santa that we all are.

You don’t have this sort of problem with Halloween, everyone can see pumpkins are real.
Well, at least the sons-a-bitches that vandalized my pumpkin headed scare crow can see they’re real. I had had my fill of these punks and was planning my revenge when the sneaking thought occurred to me in the way that life’s lessons often do (payback) that I had come full circle from my youth as the self described Undisputed Heavyweight World Champion Pumpkin Smasher (My best friends Rob and Davy sharing the crown of course). In my teens, I was a shrewd pumpkin hunter. That’s right, my filthy secret is out!
I still to this day am saddened by the fact that no hoodlums have smashed any of my pumpkins in recent years, I began to experience L.P.S.E. (low pumpkin self esteem) I even stooped so low as to smash my beautiful brides pumpkin with a well thrown rock from 50 feet out. It was a wonderful shot that the neighbor kid little Reggie took credit for all these years, Ok, I blamed him flat out although I suspect she knew all along that I was the culprit. I suspect this because, well, I think she actually saw me do it. Neither here nor there, the pumpkin was demolished and my crown stood.

However!

I never stole, or destroyed a decoration other than the pumpkin. I had respect for people’s property, sure I might re-arrange the skeleton and the scarecrow to amuse myself and friends, but I wouldn’t steal one and tear the face out of the other. How could I and feel good about myself? What’s clever or funny in that? I’ll tell you what.
Nothing!
That’s what.
I may have to come up with a plan to scare the bejesus out of these kids, one that will get them peddling as fast as they can, one that’s sure to have them shaking a turd out of the bottom of their pants, questioning my sanity and the wisdom of messing with my yard in the future, all this without inviting more problems involving eggs and toilet paper. I don’t know if such a plan exists, but I enjoy thinking of the possibilities and with today’s sue happy culture, I may have to let the junior terrorists win. They may win this battle, but I will win the war. (at least in my own head)

At any rate, this is a long winded apology to all those who’s pumpkins had the misfortune of crossing my destructive path.