Last night Scott and I thought it was over.
We were convinced there was no way we could recover.
The Christmas magic had come to an end.
Our cover was blown.
We had just placed our Elf on the Shelf...on the shelf,
and I was busy in the office typing up a letter from our magic Christmas Angel. (Yes. We really love mythical creatures in this house.)
It was midnight, and Julie came creeping down the stairs. I quietly peaked out of the office door, and I watched as Julie spied the elf and the angel, and tiptoed back upstairs...just as she was caught by Scott.
I felt sick to my stomach.
Did she watch as I typed the letter from the angel on the special paper? Was she listening as Scott and I laughed about where to put the silly little elf? Was Julie trying to catch us in the act? Was she trying to figure out what was real? Her teacher did send an email on Friday explaining that one child had "spilled the beans" about Santa. Julie never once mentioned this, but that doesn't mean she wasn't mulling over the possibility of a Santa-less world.
Scott and I whispered nervously about it, wondering whether our days of Santa and tooth fairies and the Easter bunny and elves and leprechauns were over. We just weren't ready for it to end.
The next morning I asked Julie why she was up at midnight.
"Because I wanted to see the Elf and the Angel," she answered.
"You can't do that Julie. What if the elf was flying or he saw you wake up in the middle of the night?" I asked.
"Well, Santa and his elves always know when I'm sleeping or awake. So, he probably knew I was awake which is why he hurried and got up on the shelf," Julie explained.
I think we're pretty safe with at least one more year of Christmas magic.
Thank you! Thank you for our imaginative and gullible daughter.