Ok I’m devastated I’ve tried for the last 15 years to bring Santa to life in my home.
The eaten mince pie
The empty glass of milk
The half eaten carrot
Each Christmas eve we have gone through the ritual of being Santa just to hear the excited screams of “he’s been , he’s been “. As they check the empty plate.
This year I’ve been told that’s it’s ok I don’t have to pretend anymore. It seems my ten year old knows the truth.
This has happened twice before as both Kennedy and Eden informed me that Santa isn’t real. Yet for some reason it hurts that little bit more with my youngest. I guess this is where the pretence ends. No more playing along for the younger children the youngest has said enough.
I wonder if they would indulge a old mommy with pretence. Allow me to stay in the illusion that my girls are still babies. That they still believe in wishes and fairy tales.
My eldest is three years off being a woman, where did the time go. It seems like only yesterday I was holding this chubby little new born in my arms.
Time moves on and children grow.
Though this year there will still be a cake for Santa and a carrot for Rudolph. Not for the children but for the poor mom who is struggling to realise her girls are growing up.
Indulge a old woman please.
Santa still comes here, I ask the kids ‘can they afford to take the risk hes not real?’ although my kids are old enough now to play the game and indulge their mother in a bit of fun. Boys are 22,19,16,12 eldest two have left home.
LikeLike