So, those pesky children’s Christmas gifts...Have you bought them, wrapped them and stacked them under your tree yet?
Me neither. But I’m not fretting. Not just yet anyway. The all important lists are in my possession and I am trawling through them as we speak. I have added a few little trinkets of my own such as a personalised compact mirror and personalised jewellery box. I have also ordered some lovely personalised stationery too - the failsafe present that all little girls and boys will adore!
I’m not quite sure how to go about dealing with the particular requests of ‘a lift in my house’ and ‘a balcony in my bedroom’ but I’ve got three weeks or so to come up with a half decent excuse.
I do love the magic of Christmas, most of all the palpable excitement of children. The Coca Cola advert never fails to get my heart pumping that little bit faster, as does the rhythmic beat of sleigh bells, ahhhh! The one thing that does make me feel a teensy bit uneasy however, is (shhh) the BIG lie.
As parents we try to be good role models. ‘Don’t hit, don’t steal, don’t tell fibs’ we say….but what do we do? We tell our children there's a man in a red suit who comes down the chimney with a stash of presents on Christmas Eve. (“A sort of back to front burglar?” I was once asked) Not only that but this man whizzes around the world in the space of one night visiting every single bingle child being pulled by flying reindeer. And we say it so convincingly that they are left in NO DOUBT whatsoever that this is the honest truth. As porkies go, it’s a bit of a whopper wouldn’t you say? Don’t even get me started on the Easter Bunny and his Tooth Fairy friend...What a wicked web we weave!
However, despite such misgivings, I am a big believer in believing in Father Christmas and am not ashamed to say that part of me still wants to believe today.
Even when I was old enough to realise that he didn’t actually exist, I never had the conversation to confirm it. I can still hear sleigh bells overhead if I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough! I always held on tightly to that last little nugget of magic - and I’ve never let it go.
An 11 year-old family friend recently told me of her heartbreak at discovering the truth, but admitted she wouldn’t have had her childhood any other way...So all we can do is hope, that in years to come, our children will feel the same and appreciate why we went to such lengths to make them believe in this very special fairytale.
That little girl won't realise it just yet, but as us grown-ups know too well, the magic she thinks has all gone will be with her every Christmas for the rest of her life. That funny feeling of excitement, joy and togetherness that will carry her through on a wave of fuzzy festive love. So put your guilt aside folks because there's part of the charade that will actually, always be real...
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