Lying to My Kids...

Yesterday Ed lost his third tooth. 

Last night the tooth fairy 'forgot' to visit. Caught up in working late & the adventures of Timmy the elf, it completely slipped my mind. 

He woke up this morning completely miserable. With claims that he'd been good and gone straight to sleep, he couldn't understand why she'd forgotten him. He was so sad and seemed so genuinely heart broken I couldn't tell him the truth. I couldn't simply hand over his £1. It seemed far more important to stretch it out, to push the 'story' to its absolute limits. 

You won't believe how far I pushed it. 

I told him I'd call the 'Mummy helpline'. 

With my phone to my ear, I made an effort to re-enact my usual phone call behaviour; I wandered around the house, tried to avoid noisy rooms, spent a fair amount of time on hold trying to get to the right department, remained polite and ensured one of them overheard the whole thing. 

It went a little like this;

(Phone to ear)

-pause-

"Oh hello, can I have the tooth fairy department please."

-pause-

"Hi. My son put his tooth under his pillow last night, and he went to sleep and everything but he hasn't been visited. His tooth is still there."

-long pause-

"Oh right. Okay. That's great thanks."

(Put phone down)

I told him that 200 kids lost a tooth last night and the tooth fairy was extraordinarily busy. Apparently there were loads of kids missed last night so she's doing an extra shift today while they're at school. 

He was shocked, I guess he never thought the tooth fairy could ever have too much to handle, especially when he's of that age when everyone is loosing teeth. 

Ahhh, it all made sense now. He was ok with that. 

He put his tooth box on the top of his pillow so she wouldn't struggle to find it & lives in hope she'll make it today while we're out. 

I can assure you, she has. 

My husbands reaction to this was;

"I wish you'd stop lying to him"

Which I of course understand but he was so dejected, I couldn't do the whole "oh, it's just a story anyway, here's a quid"

That would've been awful.  

And in fact, the more I think about it, the less I regret it. 

I think it's massively important to spend your childhood believing in magic and fantasy. Aside from the fact that it's the only time in your life you can put faith in such things, I think those dreams and fantasies are the foundations of creativism and free thought. 

Childhood is the only period of your life where absolute silliness can prevail. When while days can be spent making up your surroundings in pure, unadulterated play. What is imaginative play without magic? Without made up characters?

Obviously, at this time of year, we are well and truly amidst the story of Father Christmas, whose existence has been discussed greatly, but we are sticking to our guns and carrying on with the story for a little while yet. 

Why, at just six years old, would I take that away from him?

I found this interesting article on the Wall Street Journal website, about how important magical thinking is to kids, and how they use it to understand the world around them. It made me feel good (not something I often feel when it comes to my motherhood skills) about my decision to stretch the story. Like the article says, when he looked me straight in the face this morning, I assessed his level of doubt and found none, only sadness. We can go a little longer telling stories. And he'll need these skills to have a better understanding of history and people who live elsewhere in the world because the ability to imagine, to put yourself in someone else's shoes, is invaluable. I used to worry that imaginative play is so internal, because only they can see what they see, that it would encourage them to live in a bubble, but on the contrary, it will help them both become compassionate men.

One day they'll discover the truth and therefore the lies I've told them, but I hope they understand that I only did it to keep the magic alive. 

Unfortunately it does make my life difficult. 

Remembering the tooth fairy needs to visit a boy who often stays awake quite late and not neglecting the elf's activities every night for 24 nights in December is often more than I can cope with, but I'll battle on. 

The tooth fairy, in her angst, did leave the £1 coin but forgot to take the tooth. Ed decided her bag must have been too full and that actually he'd like to keep it anyway. So long as he's happy.