Ryan and I had a conversation this week which reminded me of the courtroom scene in “A Few Good Men.” Although our exchange wasn’t as angry, it was just as emotional, if not more so. The discussion went something like this…Ryan: “Mom, I have a question for you. And I want you to tell me the truth, no matter what.”
(Normally when this sentence is uttered in our house, it is me saying it to him. I worry what may be coming when he says it.)
Me: “Okay.”
Ryan: “Are you the tooth fairy?”
(I paused, trying to think of how to answer it.)
(I paused, trying to think of how to answer it.)Ryan: “Well…are you?”
After talking all around the question as much as I possibly could, I told him that I was. There was another very long pause.
Ryan: “Where do you get all of those two dollar bills?”
Me: “At the bank.”
Ryan (in a VERY disappointed tone): “Oh.”
About an hour later, when it was closer to bedtime and he was much more tired and cranky, he started sobbing. I asked him what was wrong.
Ryan (very dramatically): “I wish I had never asked you if you were the tooth fairy!!!”
As much as I love to see Ryan growing up, it makes me sad to know that he's not a baby anymore when we have discussions like this.
I’m dreading the Santa question.
I read this post out loud to Derrald. We both thought it was hilarious! You can never go back.
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