Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Is that a hole in a tree or a fairy house?

Santa, leprechans, fairies, talking cartoon dogs, magicians....

All the things that make childhood different than adulthood (and way better!).

Pushing your sister, not cleaning your room, not washing your hands...

All the things that you lie about when you are a child and what your parents frown upon.

So when is a lie OK? When it's convenient? When it makes someone else feel better? When it's a white lie? A grey lie? Where do we draw the line? I know I don't tolerate lying from anyone in my life - my husband, my family, my friends....or even myself. I am brutally honest - to the point of uncomfortable sometimes. I assumed I would be the same with my children. But then Zoe was old enough to know about Santa...and that was so fun! And the Easter Bunny... and now Leprechans and on and on. "Mommy, how does Santa get here?" Why does the Easter Bunny hide eggs?" "I learned about Leprechauns at school today". Yes, I could tell the truth and say that it is all pretend. She is starting to grasp the concept of "pretend". But there is nothing magical about that...and that is truly what I loved the most about my childhood. I was one of that last holdouts in the world of make believe and I believed in everything magical with all my heart. I believed that my dolls came to life at night and played while I was sleeping. I believed that Santa did get my 6 page wish list and considered each choice with care. I believed that there were fairies in the trees and that my dog could understand me. I had a wonderful, happy, magical childhood. No, believing in Santa was not the only reason for that, but that mindset was a big part of making being happy with the world so easy. So I guess i answered my own question. We tell stories to make childhood a wonderful place. When we stop telling those stories, life becomes boring and ugly. So here's to keeping the magic going until you can't anymore and at that point may the truth in life be a place that you can live because your heart is still filled with magic. And sometimes, just sometimes, you look twice under that leaf because you swear you saw pixie dust.