Just how many things did I believe or do I still believe that my parents made up? And I'm not talking about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.
I'm talking about the game in the backseat of the car with the magic dome light. Do cars even have dome lights anymore? I didn't think about that until I started writing this, but now that it comes to mind, I can't picture any. Anyway, in case you're younger and don't know what I'm talking about, cars used to have a light in the middle of the roof. (Do you say roof when you're talking about the inside of the car or is it the ceiling? Why is it one dumb thing that I don't know always seems to lead to the next dumb thing that I don't know?) Ok. So, here's the game. My mom would touch the dome light in the perfect place and it would magically come on. My brothers and I tried for hours to touch it in exactly the same place that my mom had touched it and it never worked. Then we'd forget about it for awhile. But, when we woke up or when we finished the game of "When my grandma went to Mississippi she took A apples, B books and C candles" we'd always give it a few more taps to see if we could turn it on. Never!
I'm not sure how the truth behind this one ever came out, but it finally did. The button to control the light was on the floor of the driver's side. My mom put one hand on the light and the other on my dad's knee. When she wanted the light to come on, she touched his knee, he clicked the button on the floor and she tapped the dome. Voila! The magic dome light. It seems a bit ridiculous now that we ever believed it, but we did and it was exciting to know that my mom had some magical powers.
And did you know that a group of miniature ballerinas used to perform in my backyard? The only problem was that their show was so early that I could never wake up in time to see it. They used to dance on the mushrooms at the base of the biggest tree in the yard. When I asked my dad what the mushrooms were he told me they were little stages waiting for ballerinas to come out to dance. I really believed it. I don't know for how long. And I don't know how old I was. But I imagined that the ballerinas looked just like Dawn Dolls. Do you remember those? They were about 7 inches tall with really long hair. That's who I imagined twirling in circles on the mushroom stages even though I never saw them. Maybe that's what kept the dream alive. If I was never up that early, I could never really know whether or not they came out. Brilliant, Dad. Make it impossible to discover the truth and one goes on believing.
Or how about my ring that was made from a REAL butterfly wing? I was walking through the zoo the other morning and when I walked past the gift shop (which I've walked past hundreds of times and it's never had an effect on me) I was struck by some gift shop memories. I remembered the thrill I'd had buying the ring that I was told was made with a real butterfly wing. It seems to me like it looked exactly like a sunset. Are there butterflies with sunset wings? If so, I'd like to see one. I sure believed it then. I can remember that I showed it to everyone and I told them all that it was a real butterfly wing. I was thrilled with my little ring that really wasn't what I thought it was at all. Or was it?
A few minutes ago I decided to google 'rings made with butterfly wings.' Guess what? They exist. Then I looked at the pictures and they were just butterfly SHAPED rings. Whew! I wasn't sure how I'd felt about being fooled and then being unfooled. But then I decided to search a little deeper. Next I typed in 'rings made with REAL butterfly wings.' They exist, too! The only problem is, they cost $80 and none of them look like a sunset. Which leads me to believe I probably didn't have the kind of ring I was told I had because I'm sure it wasn't expensive. OR, could a $10 ring in 1975 be an $80 ring today? I suppose it could be. Should I google "sunset butterflies" now?
So, is it okay to tell these little fibs? Do all parents do it? It kind of makes me think I want to start doing it with my friends' kids because it seems that some of my favorite childhood memories come from these little stories. But I really can't imagine that I could say something to a kid on the beach right now that he'd still be thinking about in 2046. I suppose the biggest difference is that a 7-year old kid today wouldn't be waiting 39 years to find out the real story. He'd just go home and google it and the mystery would have only lasted a few hours instead of a few decades. And that's why I'm not going to google 'little ballerinas on mushroom stages'. Some things are better left un-googled. I'd rather go on believing that I just don't get up early enough to see them.
