Santa, The Easter Bunny and The Tooth Fairy; Or The Happy Lies We Tell Our Children

I VOWED when I became a mother that I would NEVER lie to my daughter.

If I want her to trust me enough to confide in me about anything and everything, then I need to be completely honest with her, always. How can I expect her to learn truthfulness, if I don't practice it myself?

I was prepared to be gentle and age-appropriate when answering sex questions, but, had no intention in pretending that babies come from the stork. I knew that I would have no problem telling her the truth about body parts and bodily functions. The phrases "down there" or "going tinkle" were not in my vocabulary. She would know the proper names for body parts and, really, the phrase "going tinkle" should just be eliminated from the global vocabulary.

I was ready to tell her the truth about drugs. ("No, marijuana will not give you 'reefer madness', but don't become stoner with no short term memory; and yes, heroin and cocaine will ruin your life.")

I knew that when she began asking questions about her absent father I would answer her simply, directly and with lots of reassurance and love.  In short, there would be no subject that was taboo or off limits and everything would be answered with the truth as I know it.

Except. I forgot about Santa.

I hadn't really considered that when telling her all about Santa (how awesome he is; how he would bring her gifts on Christmas Eve; how he flies all over the world in a single night; how he uses reindeer to fly his sleigh; how elves make the toys he brings; how he would happily gobble up her cookies and milk; and every other part of the Santa Story) I was telling her about 20 lies in one fell swoop. Oops. Heck, I even sent her a fake video Christmas card from "Santa".

And don't even get me started with the "Easter Bunny Deception"!  ("Yes, honey...a giant rabbit really does hop around the world the night before Easter and hide chocolates inside everyone's house.  Um...sure...I guess he comes down the chimney too...")  *sigh*

So, my very noble plan of telling my beautiful little girl the absolute truth at all times has fallen to pieces. However, when she finally cottons on to the secret around age 7 or 8, I have my defence all planned. Here's what I've got; tell me what you think:

"You see, sweetie, your innocence was just too beautiful to miss. Unfortunately, this world can be pretty tough. Sometimes people are mean and sometimes bad things happen. But there you were, so gorgeous with your big brown eyes and toothy grin; excited by all you were hearing about this magical man. A man who is so full of generosity and kindness that he spends all his time trying to make children happy. I couldn't bear to miss out on the chance to vicariously return to a time when magic was a real, tangible possiblity.

And I didn't want you to miss out on it either. Because, regretably, we all have but a few short years of complete innocence and I wouldn't have robbed you of that for anything. Not even for something as wonderful and important as the truth."

What do you think? Think she'll still trust me about the stork?