Back to reality

I was driving with Sam yesterday.

Because that's what I do these days, drive around with various people in my car.

So we're driving and Sam mentions that in 1st grade today there was a bit of a controversy regarding whether or not the Tooth Fairy was real.

"Some people think she is not real," he says.

"Really?"

"But I know she is because you got a call from her that one time she couldn't come because she ran out of quarters."

"Um.  Okay." I said.

This is making me uncomfortable.  I'm not really sure why we tell out kids these stories, but I don't want Sam to be the kid in high school that's like, "No, man, I'm serious, she has a cell phone and everything."  I don't want to set him up for ridicule.

Because he WILL believe you.  This kid will believe ANYTHING you tell him.  His cousin knows that well.  I don't want him to believe me now and carry that far longer than other children because he's already a little behind the curve in maturity.  And that's aside from any personal misgivings about how grown-ups mess with kids and reality.

"So that's how I know she's real.  Because you said she was and she called you.  Right?"

Pause

Pause

"Unless you're lying.'

Ouch.  Why's it gotta be "lying?"  How 'bout we just call it Parent-Led Imagination?

But I couldn't do it anymore and I confessed.  I said the tooth fairy was not real, and I just said that she called because I thought it was a nice story and it was a nice thing to pretend about.

He sat quietly for a minute.  "It's okay that you lied," he finally announced.

Thanks.

"But now I'm wondering about Santa Claus."

I just turned the radio up and pretended I couldn't hear him.

Race - in the mind of a child

I was on the computer yesterday and Sam happened to see an Obama ad on screen.

"Wait," he says, surprised.  "Is that Obama?"

"Yeeees."  I answer.

"That's a real picture?  That's really what he looks like?"

"Yes."  I don't like where this is going.

"Wow.  I didn't know he looked like that."

"Like what?"  crap crap crap crap.

"Well . . . I just . . . I just thought his head was more oval."

Oh.  Well.  That's weird.  But at least it's not racist!

And Lilly?  Well, she got her first princess doll about a month ago.  She LUBS her princess doll.  She lubs her so, so much and she is so, so sweet.  She carries her around and demands you put the dolls god-forsaken plastic shoes back on her stupid plastic feet over and over and over again.  And then you get to brush her hair.

"Oh no!  A tangle!" Lilly says, "Better brush it out!"

This being all fun and games and imagination, as my daughter of the pin-straight hair has never been subjected to a hair brush in her life.

Anyway, about a week ago, Lilly came up to me and said, "I LUB my white doll!"

ACK!  You can't SAY that!  Where did she even come up with that?!  Where did she HEAR such a thing?! This is terrible!  Where did we go wrong?!

Oh.  Hang on.  She means SNOW white.  It's the Snow White Princess doll.

Well.  That's okay then.

But seriously, how about a different nickname?

What? I just really like free things.

I do have a job.

 And woo-hoo for that, you know, with the economy and all.

But it maybe isn't my favorite job

Silver lining there, though, is that I really appreciate the heck out of my weekends.

But I have noticed that my definition of a "good" weekend is a little different than it used to be.

I'm sitting here on a Sunday night, lounging in the warm glow of floors swept, and a million loads of laundry done and folded and put away, and 25 little tupperwares of lunch foods assembled, and an apple crisp baked and 3 children bathed and stuff like that.

I think that shift happened around the same time I started getting excited about things like free flu shots and underpants for Christmas.