Psychological Warfare with Mythical Creatures

Alternately titled:  How I came to learn that the Easter Bunny wasn't real

On Wednesday I went out and bought Abby her first Easter gifts.   What do you get for the baby that has everything (and alternately, what do you get for the baby who can't eat candy?).  Why, a bikini of course!  And a book that makes noise and flashes lights.  Her future husband Tate has one and she was into it last time we were over at The Porter's casa so I thought I would get her one of her own.

Besides, Abby's figure is meant to be shown off.  Look at this girl!



Anyway, I digress.

It is kind of crazy that as children we place blind faith into these mythical creatures.  Why do we do it as parents?  Why do we hype up these holiday emblems only to have our children dissapointed years later?  Don't get me wrong, I am all for it. I think that there is something so special about watching a child get excited for not necessarily gifts, but a nocturnal visit from someone they will never see.

I thought I might catalogue a few of my recollections of my upbringing with the Easter Bunny, Santa and the Tooth Fairy.

Tooth Fairy
I think the best thing about the Tooth Fairy is that by the time you are old enough to realize that it is a crock, your teeth have all fallen out and you have reaped the full monetary benefit of the charade.  That being said, I don't remember anything about realizing that the Tooth Fairy wasn't real.  I DO however remember trying to pull a fast one on her.

After losing one of my teeth, I went to put it under my pillow and it was gone.  We couldn't find it anywhere.  So, my mom told me just to write the tooth fairy a note (so, I was clearly old enough to write when I still believed) and that she would probably understand.  The next day, I had money under my pillow.  Score.

So, a few weeks later, I decided to do the same thing.  I was VERY dissapointed the next morning when I woke up with nothing, but at the same time I was too embarrassed to tell my parents.  Oh well.

Easter Bunny

I really believed in the Easter Bunny.  In my house growing up there were two sets of stairs (one on each side of the house) going into the basement  where my room was.  So, if you were running through a house like a madman, you could just keep doing one continuous loop.  Not that I ever did that.

Anyway, the point of that story is that my parents the Easter Bunny use to leave a trail of treats from each of our rooms all the way to our easter baskets.  That candy was exclusively ours.  It was my belief as a child that the Easter Bunny came and peaked into each of our rooms to ensure that we were asleep before leaving our baskets, but for some reason he had a kangaroo style pouch with a hole in it...thus the candy trails.  In front of our baskets would be one of those hollow chocolate eggs (I'll come back to this) and then there would be a candy hunt, where it was a free for all among us 4 kids.  Mike wasn't really big on candy, so he was pretty easy to make unfair candy swaps with.

One year, I distinctly remember just taking a blind shot in the dark and telling my father that I didn't believe that the Easter Bunny was real.  I didn't really think that; I don't even know why I would have said it.  My Dad (very quickly) responded that only people who believed in the Easter Bunny got treats.  SOLD

Back to those hollow eggs.  Later on in my childhood years, it was those eggs that kept me believing in the Easter Bunny.  Sure, I had seen them in stores, but how did our names get on them?  I believe it was my friend Katie who spilled that they had stands set up where they would personalize them.

Guess what though?  I still get easter presents.  So maybe you don't have to believe in the bunny after all.

Santa

Ah, the big one.  The man in red.  The character that everyone adores although all signs point to it being more prudent to be terrified of him (omnipotence, nocturnal visits, elves...come on).  I believed in Santa until I was 10 years old. I am sure that is almost unheard of now.  Here are a few stories about Santa.

Every year, we would write letters to Santa, and Santa would generally send one back in the mail, but also leave one next to the milk and cookies (or sometimes diet coke and cookies) that we left for him.  My parents were very clever with these letters, using things like christmas trees as exclamation marks. 

The two times I set about to test if Santa was real or not were both dismal failures.  The first was when I wrote a letter asking for a dog.  I sealed it in an envelope before my parents could see it and insisted on mailing it myself.  I think eventually my dad talked me out of that and was able to (as Santa) provide a reasonable explanation for why I couldn't have one.

The second was a little more high-tech.  Very politely and casually, in my letter to Santa one year I requested pictures of the following:  The workshop, Mrs. Clause, The Elves and the Reindeer.  Once again, denied with a reasonable explanation.

This time I am SURE it was my friend Katie who told me Santa wasn't real.  I brought in the letter that I had gotten from Santa (i.e: the post office worker posing as Santa) and proudly showed it off.  In my grade 5 classroom....yeah, I had this one coming.  Anyway, Katie set me straight and that was the end of that.

So, that was my coming of age with all of the childhood myths.  AND look, I survived and am relatively normal!

Regardless of whether or not (Tooth Fairy aside) you celebrate holidays for the true religious reasons, or for the commercial reasons, I think the important thing about holidays in that they are foundational to childhood memories.  I am absolutely going to use every holiday I can to try to pass on and lay down tradition to my family. 

And use it as an excuse to buy my baby a bikini.