The "NP" in the title is for "Non-Political," which would seem to be an appropriate disclaimer on the Dark Side these days.

WARNING: This following post is decidedly soft and mushy and may not suitable for perusal by anyone with a low tolerance for sappy drivel....

Anybody ever have to tell a kid there's no such thing as Santa Claus/the Easter Bunny/etc.? If not, don't start today. It's a road better left untravelled.

My middle child had a tooth pulled yesterday, and the tooth next to it volunteered itself for an easy extraction later on. The result was a gaping hole in her mouth, which she proudly showed me as soon as I got home from work yesterday. All evening long there were hints dropped, and a final return to the events of the day was the last thing she said to me when I tucked her into bed. Despite all that, the cursed Tooth Fairy failed to show, and when my daughter awoke this morning, a few minutes earlier than usual, and found no financial reward for her bravery, she was most disappointed. Realizing there would be no fixing this the easy way, I resigned myself to reveal to her the Tooth Fairy's true identity, figuring the belated monetary gift might smooth things over. With hindsight, perpetuating the lies would have been a far better choice.

No sooner had the last syllable made its way off the tip of my tongue than she began to cry - not that loud, obviously forced cry parents get when they deny a child something he or she really wants, but that soft, sincere sobbing that says "Dad, you just cut me deep." The panic was on. Even through the tears, I could see the wheels of logic turning in her mind, and my greatest fear was realized when my oldest daughter, who was sitting next to the recently grief-stricken one, leaned over to her and audibly whispered, "It's OK, Autumn, Santa Claus is real," which was immediately followed by a telling, particularly emphatic series of sobs. My heart sank like a rock. The cat (as well as the rabbit, the fairy, the elves, you name it...) was out of the bag, once and for all.

After a few minutes of hugs, kisses, and assurances, things were starting to look up a bit, so I offered Autumn a fried egg sandwich (her favorite breakfast, and generally surefire brownie points for Dad). She happily accepted, much to my joy and relief. Of course, this wasn't the end of the ordeal, as just as I got the bread and cheese on the griddle, Autumn asked her mother to tell me that she couldn't have toast, due to the lingering discomfort in her mouth. Out of respect for my feelings, she had asked her mother to deliver what she thought might be disappointing news on her behalf. At that point, I really felt like a buffoon. She had considered my feelings over something as trivial as ingredients in a sandwich, where I had lacked the tact to find a way to keep the wonder and majesty of holidays alive and well in her sweet, innocent mind.

Faced with a similar challenge in the future, as I likely will be at some point with my youngest, given my propensity for forgetting important little details, I'll be digging a little deeper for plausible "explanations." It seems that sometimes a white lie is the only decent way to address a painful question....

It is often asked by someone my age ( 62 ) how we survived childhood and puberty. After your read ( and a laugh or two, well maybe three / four ) I think it might be better asked on how parents survive the lifetime commitment being a parent is.

As I am male the above applies. If female, x10 and a medal for not shooting your mate. Us guys are not so hot at this children and hubby thing at times.

So true.

I have to admit FF I had a good luagh or two out of that. Although, only because I can relate to your dilemma.

Children of a certain age ask so many questions at times we are forced to think our answers though thoroughly.

Admittedly I am not the best at that as I tend to offer the most logical, truthful response when faced with question after question after question.

Sometimes blowing a little smoke is the best prescription

Might want to make sure Fish Prince doesn't read this. I don't think he knows yet.

Anyway...

Just last week my daughter came in holding one of her teeth with a big gap-tooth smile.

"Daddy! I just lost a tooth!"

"That's cool Sweetie! I'll have to go --um-- er... find you something to put it in!"

(Whew! that was close!)

I was about .0001 seconds away from admitting I was going to go get those $.50 cent pieces she finds under her pillow in the morning.

Ouch,been there done that a couple times as my daughters are now 14 & 19.Like said above blowing a little smoke has saved the day a few times.Funny story and remember it like it was yesterday.FishPrince is now so scared that Santa was a smoke screen and is wondering who the Fuk the real tooth fairy was @ his bed side in the 80's,did she have an adam's apple again.Good luck,
SZ

Wait until he's told about the birds and the bees and realizes how used he's been.

Yup. She'll be layin' it on thick from here on out, just like her momma. I must say I deserved it today.

Word to the wise: Never, I repeat, never make decisions about how to handle potentially delicate situations before you've had your morning coffee/tea/whatever.

The best policy when dealing with any female is just to keep your fat mouth shut at all times.

"Anything you say can and will be used against you..."

Golden Fukkin' Rule right there.

And it may be ten years later. Wow, are you still steaming about that?

Sorry for your misfortune FF, but all will be well, tho you might pay a price.

I don't know why, being all scientific and all, I decided to let my kids believe whatever they wanted in regards to childhood beliefs for as long as they wanted. We had a lot of fun. Even well after they knew about Santa, they would pretend he was real for slight fear all the good times would come to an end. It all works out, either way.

Sg

Ah crap! I made that mistake with Santa....once. Not one I care to repeat. Still feel guilty about dashing that dream. I'm convinced that Fairy Tales need to die in their own time.

Hell yes, there's a Santa.

There's also a hot rod, a hot rod holder, and hot side of the boat.

There's a magic plug, a super spinner, and a fly that outfishes all others.

There's a lucky (heads up) penny, a good luck charm, a good morning kiss and a good night hug.

There's a hot spot, a hot bait, and a hot lure.

There's whatever or whoever it was that watched over you when you could have gotten into a helluva lot of trouble BUT DIDN'T. And whoever THAT was is good friends with Santa and the Tooth Fairy.