4.10.2006

Thanks, Dad

I did perhaps one of the worst feeling things I've done as a parent so far. It was by accident mind you, but it has had probably the most deleterious effect on me of anything I've done.

Yesterday, due to circumstances that arise (you know...), we had to explain to our nine-year-old middle child that my wife and I were the Easter Bunny. And Santa Claus. And the Tooth Fairy.

Not a big deal, really. We'd done it twice already with the two older kids, and the thing is, they pretty much knew. We weren't telling them so much as confirming what they had already figured out.

I don't think that was the case with #3. Certainly, I got the feeling she had heard from her friends, but she still believed, with her heart, that Santa was real, and was there for her. For whatever reason, she believed in the magic.

And I took that from her. And I can't give it back.

Yesterday, we yanked her soul closer to adulthood, away from a childhood carefree wonder that I didn't realize she had until we accidentally dented it. We forced the burden of a secret on her that she didn't ask for, and now she has to perpetrate the deception on her little sister and brother along with us.

The worst part was, right after we broke the news, I knew. And I also knew it was irreversible; that this intangible thing was broken forever, and I'd never be able to fix it.

Just the previous afternoon, my wife and I were marvelling over how awesome it is to have a child, because you get to see the world again with brand new eyes. To watch them eat their first ice cream, or pet their first bunny. To skip their first stone, feel their first snowfall, put their toes in a stream, draw their first picture, write their name, read their first word. It's a sense of wonder and amazement about the world that we lose as adults and we start moving about our lives taking care of the myriad of responsibilities that just need, well, taken care of. But kids bring you back to the center, to the essence of what life is all about, and let you share it and live it all over again.

I wish I could go back and fix it. Rewind time. I really do. It seems so stupid, so silly, to be so worked up over something so small. You might say, "We all have to grow up sometime. She would have found out eventually." But that's like pushing her off her bike because we all fall down sometimes and she needs to get used to it. No parent wants to visit that on their children.

I know she'll forgive me, as she always does. But still, I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry.

posted by risser at 07:38

Someone had something to say.