It’s New Year’s Eve and we’ve had a nice quiet evening hanging out and watching a movie. As I was putting Punkin Jr. to bed I told her that tomorrow we would be taking down the Christmas tree. She asked if Christmas was over and I said that it was. I also told her that Santa Bird was to fly away tomorrow to go back to the North Pole. She immediately burst into tears, not crocodile tears, but honest-to-goodness bawling-her-eyes-out tears. All the while she was screaming, “I don’t want her to fly away. I love her so much.” It was excruciatingly heartbreaking. That little bird has brought so much love and happiness to our little girl and now her heart is being crushed by the thought of the bird flying away. PJ finally buried her face in the pillow and cried that she couldn’t take it anymore. All her dad and I could do was to give her big hugs and wipe away her tears. How is it that as parents we perpetuate these myths for a little fun and joy at Christmastime only to turn around in a few years and shatter it all to smithereens?
Happy New Year.
P.S. I still believe in Santa Claus. And now the Santa Bird. Do you?
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