Yesterday, I killed Santa.
I still feel sick.
I still have a headache.
I feel like the worst person on the planet.
Harry had his confo photos taken yesterday and, after they were done, we came home to hang out for an hour before I dropped him at the cinema where he was meeting his mates. In that hour he lost a tooth. I really, REALLY, wish he hadn't lost that tooth. If he still had that tooth attached to his head Santa would still be alive.
He asked me what he should do with the tooth. I said "under your pillow for the tooth fairy?!" To which he said "MAM!?!?", so I said "Easter Bunny" . . He said "?!?!" ..... then we eyeballed each other for a few minutes before I said "Santa?" He looked at me, I looked at him and he started to cry. I told him that we needed to have a chat and explained what was what. He kept crying and saying "....but . . does that mean . . . what???"
So, I started crying. Fuck, but did I start to cry. In the end I think he got over the whole revelation far quicker than I did. I went to bed as soon as I could, 10pm, as my heart was broken.
I am such a sap.
I rang Darren, whilst he was food shopping, and he thought, due to the fact I was sob-coughing-crying on the phone that something bad had happened. Er, hello??? SANTA is no more you bastard!!!! Apparently "Harry had to find out sometime." Fecker. Karen was very practical too, as was Ger and Sinead. Carol wasn't answering her phone and Lily was at the doctor and I forgot to ring Anna. Can you see how much of an issue this is/was for me?
I took Harry to the cinema early and, while in the car, asked him if he'd like to go for a hot chocolate or something. He said "No, I'm fine." Then, he took a look at me, with my puffy, red eyes and said "Mam, would you like to go for a hot chocolate?"
"Yes, yes I would".
I love my boy so much and I am NEVER EVER telling anyone else anything that big again. EVER. I came across this letter ages ago and thought 'I'm going to need this one day', didn't realise I'd need it less than a year after I first read it. I've put my spin on it but . . yeah, I have this for Harry, for next November when everyone is getting excited and he knows. He knows that he is Santa.
Dear Harry,
I am so sorry to tell you that there is no one Santa. That it's me who fills your stocking. That it's me who picks and wraps the presents that go under the tree, the way my mam did for me and her mam did for her (dad helps too by the way).
I know, hope, that one day you are going to do this for your kids. I know you are going to love seeing them run down the stairs on Christmas morning (having spent most of the night yourself on tenterhooks that they are never EVER going to go asleep). You are going to love seeing them sitting in a pile of wrapping paper their faces huge with excitement.
This won't make you Santa though.
Santa is way bigger than any one person, and his work has gone on longer than any of us has lived. What Santa does is simple but powerful. He teaches kids to believe in something they can't see or touch.
It's a huge job and a really important one. Through your life you will need this ability to to believe. Believe in yourself, your friends, your talent, your family. You'll need to believe in things you can't measure or hold in your hand. I know, I know, your mam is s sap but, bear with me. I'm talking about love, that great magic that will light you up from the inside out, even when you're scared.
Santa is a teacher and I am his student and, now you know the secret of how he gets down all those chimneys on Christmas Eve. He has help from all the people whose hearts he has filled with love and magic.
Myself and your dad take turns helping Santa to do a job that would be impossible without us.
So, no, there is no one Santa. Santa is love and magic and happiness and hope and excitement and wonder. I'm on his team and now you are too.
Harry, my love, you are Santa.
Love you always,
Mam xxx
Going for a lie down now.
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