Your Family - April 2017

MOM’S THE WORD

THE WORLD IS A COMPLICATED PLACE, AND

WE COMPLICATE IT FURTHER WITH MYTHS AND

STORIES AND INTANGIBLES. IT’S NOT SURPRISING

THAT YOUNG KIDS PICK UP SOME STRANGE

IDEAS, WRITES KATE SIDLEY

I

heard a lovely story recently about a little girl who spotted her

father taking the baby tooth out of her slipper and replacing

it with a dollar. Instead of assuming that the tooth fairy was

a myth, she drew the conclusion that her father was the tooth

fairy. She shared this secret with her best friend (she’s the one

who was telling the story) who just accepted the story at face

value. According to her telling of it, for years she believed that

her friend’s mild-mannered accountant father moonlighted as

the tooth fairy. She even started to leave him little in-slipper

notes: ‘Dear Mr Jankowitz...’

When you think about it, why is the idea that Mr Jankowitz

takes teeth and gives you money any less likely or believable

than the existence of a mouse who does the same?

When my daughter was little, she was very fond of Norman,

the guard who operated the boom at the entrance to the suburb

where my mom lived. She would greet Norman on our way to

see her Nana, and sometimes we’d walk/toddle down to have

a chat to him, take him a piece of cake, or admire the workings

of the boom.

One day, when she was in Grade 0 and thus exposed to

rather more religion that she would find at home, she gave her

customary wave to Norman the guard and remarked to me,

matter-of-factly: ‘We sing songs about Norman at school.’

‘Really?’ I asked, bemused. ‘What songs?’

‘Lots of different songs. And prayers, you know, “Dear guard”

and “Thank you guard”.’

You can imagine my convoluted explanation about the

difference between a guard and a god, and why it was quite

unlikely that the whole of Christendom worshipped Norman.

Even though he is a lovely chap, of course.

I did a no-better job of the Easter Bunny or Father Christmas.

Of course, when there are chocolates and pressies to be had,

kids are not on the lookout for logical inconsistencies. Especially

when they are small. But as they grow up, they begin to wonder.

As soon as the merest chink appeared in the credibility of the

story, and the child started to ask questions, then I’d cave.

The Easter Bunny myth fell by the wayside when some

eagle-eyed child noticed that the eggs the bunny left were

the same ones they’d seen in Woolworths the week before.

As for Father Christmas, well, the inconsistencies and

improbabilities are so extreme it doesn’t take long for someone

to start asking questions. There’s the obvious one: ‘How does

Father Christmas get to every house in the whole world on

the same day?’ to which I waved my hand and said, ‘Who

knows, darling? It’s a mystery.’ Which worked for a bit, but then

questions started piling up: ‘What if he needs to go to the loo

when he’s flying in the sleigh?’ ‘What do the reindeer eat?’

And the South African classic: ‘How does he turn off the burglar

alarm?’ I didn’t want to outright lie, nor did I want to ruin the

whole thing, so I reverted to my hand waving ‘Mysteries of

life’ answer.

Frankly, I’ve always found the Father Christmas myth

problematic. The real question is why FC only brings gifts to

middle-class families who can afford them. That was an answer

I decided I wouldn’t fudge, but curiously, no one asked. In fact,

the questions dried up. The kids told me years later that they

didn’t want to jeopardise the present flow by letting on that

IMAGE: FOTOLIA.COM they were no longer true believers. They’d grown up.

WHAT?

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