It Is Confirmed

Although this was a great Christmas, I am kind of sad. The magic of Christmas with little ones is over. None of my children believes in Santa Claus anymore.

Oh, I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, but when the last one tells you he doesn't believe anymore, it feels as if a special part of Christmas is gone.

The Friday before Christmas:

Me: Santa comes tomorrow!

Tim: Yeah, right.

Me: What's that supposed to mean. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Santa comes on Christmas Eve.

Tim: Come on, Mom. It's impossible.

Me: What's impossible? (That's me playing stupid.)

Tim: A fat guy in a sleigh with reindeer flying all over the world in one night delivering presents to every kid? It takes longer than that to fly around the world in a jet.

Me: Well, what about magic? Santa's magic, ya know. And he reindeer fly faster than the speed of light.

Tim: Flying reindeer, Mom?

Me: Sure.

Eating the breakfast sandwich I had made him:

Tim: Magic? I'm going to sprinkle some pixie dust on this sandwich to make it look better.

He proceeds to pretend to sprinkle the sandwich with pixie dust and looks at me expectantly.

Tim: See, still the same. There's no such thing as magic, either.

Me: Well, how do all the presents get here, then?

Tim: You and dad. I'm not a kid anymore. I know things.

Wanting to end this conversation:

Me: You only think you know. Now eat your sandwich before it turns into a frog.