E: Can you imagine an elephant sitting on an egg?
M: Wouldn't that be crazy?
E: Anyways, it's just a book. It's not real.
M: I guess.
E: Like fairies. Fairies aren't real either. You told me that, right?
M: Um, yeah. I guess I did. *mental self-flagellation*
E: But wings are real, right?
M: Sure, it's just wings on people that aren't real. *STOP TALKING! STOP TALKING!! YOU'RE ROBBING HER OF THE MAGIC OF CHILDHOOD!!!*
E: Yeah. Why aren't fairies real mama?
M: Hey, want some ice cream???
Seriously though, the jig is up for Santa this year, isn't it? I just can't see her getting through the whole season with Santa and the elves and the flying reindeer and a bag big enough to carry every present for every kid in the world and the Grinch without popping the big question. You know the one. I can't even say it. And if I can't even say it, how the heck am I going to answer it? With a lie? Lying is bad. Even E knows that. That's why you're not supposed to have to have this conversation until their little brains are big enough to understand how sometimes it's cool for parents to lie to kids. Right? Oh man. I'm not ready.