Being Real
It finally happened. A couple of days after Christmas my Anna caught on. While sitting in her bed with tears in her eyes, she asked me the question parents dread, “Santa isn’t real, is he?” I took a deep breath and replied “No, he isn’t.” And just like that, the magic disappeared. I am writing about it now, just days before Easter, because this will be the first Easter that my eldest daughter will no longer believe that the Easter Bunny came in the night and hid brightly colored eggs in the yard and left sweet treats in her Easter
