Little green men

Before becoming a parent, I had no idea the level of deceit required to make childhood fun in the traditional holiday sense of the word. Santa, the Easter Bunny, the tooth fairy, and, most recently, leprechauns--it's one big web of lies. We are already having to make adjustments to the concept of Santa. One can hardly walk downtown in December without noticing five or six different versions on various street corners. The other holiday representatives, however, pretty much remain unchallenged. The girls basically accept their existence without giving it a second thought. I mean, why analyze anything when the end conclusion might result in the loss of candy or treats?

There are times when I feel guilty for perpetuating the whole falsehood but others when I remember how exciting it was to pull a coin out from under my pillow, hunt down Easter eggs, or pinch anyone not wearing green when I was a kid. I don't think I ever felt bitter when the truth made itself known. Why then, does it feel strange to trick my kids into having the same kind of fun?

Well, whatever guilt I experience I do manage to put aside. In part, I just don't have any decent answers. In part, I'm kind of liking the role of myth-maker. I enjoy making special days stand out by purchasing holiday outfits for the girls, decorating the house, and planning gatherings and activities to celebrate.

On St. Patrick's day, I planned to get up before the girls and liberally dose a few key dairy items with green food dye. I was waylaid a bit when the girls crawled into bed for a morning snuggle. Mark had gotten up to make some coffee. While dozing off with a girl tucked in on either side of me, Mark walks in and asks, "Hey, weren't you going to put green food color in some food to trick the girls into thinking the leprechauns came? Can I say sometimes someone in our house doesn't think things through before speaking??? I replied, "What a silly idea! If the leprechauns came, they would turn things green for themselves. We'll just have to check the refrigerator when we get up!"

At that point I pretended to have to let the dog out while I quickly manufactured some lucky milk, applesauce and yogurt. I just managed to slip the now green spoon into the dishwasher before Julia came bounding in to see if any leprechauns visited in the night.

I'll be honest and say I'm not really sure what the leprechauns are supposed to do and why we'd actually like to have them as guests so I kind of make that part up. In our version, they come to our house to snack and when their good luck rubs off on anything they touch, turning the item green. Seems to take the edge of the question that I am just waiting for one of my girls to ask: if weird little green men can sneak into our house without us noticing in the dark of night, what's to stop scary burglar guys?

I'm prepared to answer that magic and a good motives make all the difference. I'm pretty sure that is the same response I'll use if the girls ever wonder why we practiced parental holiday deceit in the first place, too.