my little brother looked at me this morning and told me he knew i was the easter bunny. he's nine. now i know that kids are supposed to believe in these things but i have been his easter bunny, his tooth fairy, and all those other fairytales he believed in for years. i asked him if i had fluffy ears or a little tail and he said "no, but you're sweet and you always wake up late on holidays" he grabbed my hand and told me i was the easter bunny and there was no way out of it. now like i said, he's nine. the same age i had been when i stopped believing, and i think that says a lot about growing up. once you hit a certain age, you stop believing in fairytales and i feel like thats a realization that the world isn't magical- that fairytales are just stories made to keep children young and innocent as long as we can keep them, because once you get older you start figuring out that the world isn't a fairytale. that the only magic that exists is in the children's hearts, in their eyes, and their fingertips. i think parents know too much about how the world works so they depend on their kids believing those fairytales so they can find a little magic in this world. i think that parents thrive on the magic in their kids. i think easter egg hunts and leaving cookies out for santa are more for the parents than for the kids. because at an age of disbelief all that magic goes away and you're left with a world that isn't the way you pictured it would be
