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I had to, at a celebratory dinner, concede and explain to my eight-year-old daughter that there is no Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, or Tooth Fairy.
It went... well.
Much incredulous excitement and revelations lighting up throughout the meal:
"You hide all the Easter Eggs?" hissed at me so that her four-year-old sister can't hear.
She barely ate, because something new occurred to her every second bite.
"You write the labels on all the presents?!"
"You sneak the money and charm in when I lose a tooth?!"
"You bought us Webkinz?!"
And you should have seen her face when I told her that I eat Santa's cookies and the reindeer's carrots. And that they do not go well together, so it's quite a chore and that she can take over that duty in two and a half months time.
It went... well.
Much incredulous excitement and revelations lighting up throughout the meal:
"You hide all the Easter Eggs?" hissed at me so that her four-year-old sister can't hear.
She barely ate, because something new occurred to her every second bite.
"You write the labels on all the presents?!"
"You sneak the money and charm in when I lose a tooth?!"
"You bought us Webkinz?!"
And you should have seen her face when I told her that I eat Santa's cookies and the reindeer's carrots. And that they do not go well together, so it's quite a chore and that she can take over that duty in two and a half months time.
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