As a little girl I was told that Santa was real, like everyone else. I believed my parents. Afterall, lying was a bad thing to do. So why would parents do it? Otherwise Santa wouldn't come for them. I was taken to a shopping centre to sit on his knee (not completely sure that should be legal, but that's another topic for another day). I would tell him all about how good I had been apart from the once I completely accidentally told my 3 year old brother that if he believed hard enough, he could turn into Peter Pan. (Gran caught him on the porch roof in his Pyjama's and I got in a world of trouble). I confided in my 'Santa Claus'. I told him I had tried to be good but sometimes people didn't do what I wanted them to so I bit them, but that was an accident too. I told him, truely believing that all would be forgiven, like in confession, and my presents would come because I admitted it, and I knew that I had to start behaving angelically as soon as Advent calendars appeared. I trusted him, and I trusted them.
I was always taught that fairies were real. There was one for every occasion, and some... just because they felt like it. Tooth fairy, Birthday fairy, Christmas Tree Fairy, Flower fairies, Season fairies, Get Better Fairy, Sleep Fairy, even the Too Much Noise Fairy. Each one having its own job, helping to keep the world running smoothly, children behaving peroperly, and making our surroundings beautiful for us to live in.
The toothfairy took my teeth and swapped them for pennies. I dont know what she did with them but I didn't care. You could actually still buy 100 sweets with a pound back then!
The Birthday and Christmas Fairies checked I was behaving and not being too 'selfish, spoilt, or just plain rotten'. They could see me no matter where I was, even if I didn't tell anyone where I was going. Once I took my Mum's nail polish and painted my kitten's nails in the shed. And the Birthday Fairy TOLD ON ME!
The Christmas Tree Fairy just sat on top of the tree with her 'I've a branch up my ass' face. She always hated me. She was a fairy with zero yuletide cheer and absolutely no goodwill. My stocking was nearly empty one year apart from a Gameboy and some earrings, and I always knew it was her that took the cool stuff like bouncy balls and chocolate coins, I could just never prove it.
Flower fairies and Season fairies were lovely though. They always made our garden beautiful. One would use an acorn shell and blow into it like a horn, everytime the season changed and the Flower fairies made different coloured flowers appear. The season fairies wore beautiful dresses and silken slippers made from flowers and silk given to them by silk worms. They woke up the sun or sprinkled springtime dew, or seived a layer of powdery white glistening snow over the patio and the lawn. They painted butterflies and flew with baby birds, and gave dew-drop spectacles to lost moles. I always wished I could be a Season fairy. I just never decided on my favourite season.
The Get Better Fairy was brill. If ever anyone had an accident the Get Better Fairy would send my Mum some amazing cream that you rubbed on and the hurt went away. It was real true magic (or so I thought).
The Sleep Fairy sprinkled special dust into my eyes at night that made me sleepy. She was so elegant and quick that I never once caught her doing it, but I always washed away the sleepy dust from my eyes in the morning. She must have been like a little ballerina, swirling and twirling around sprinkling her sleeping dust like golden glitter.
The Too Much Noise fairy was petrifying. She would give my parents a key. A horrible invisible key that they would put into an invisible keyhole on my tummy that made SILENCE come out of my mouth. It was so frightening, and the silence wouldn't stop until they turned the key back again because the Too Much Noise fairy had decided i was allowed 'one more chance'. I had nightmares about that fairy. I think she was probably more likely an imp when i think about it in hindsight.
Wee Willy Winky was a crazy old man with an eerie voice and VERY LOUD STOMPING FOOTSTEPS. He ran about town in his nightgown and an odd little hat and steel toe capped boots, making sure that all the children were in bed and asleep for eight o'clock. There was even a song about it that was so traumatic I can't even remember it.
Easter Bunny seemed alright. He hopped about in late March/Early April, leaving chocolate eggs from chocolate chickens all over our garden. He was disorganised but at least he didn't threaten to take my voice or my teeth. At Christmas our presents were at the end of our beds and under the tree. At Easter we had to go in the rain to find our chocolate. And then We had to make sure we didnt chew our Easter hunt baskets because the Easter Bunny needed them back for next year. I accidentally chewed mine a tiny bit once, so the next year he sent the chewed one back to me, which I suppose I deserved.
A good way to make sure your children fall silent turned 8pm every night, is to tell them that if they do not go immediately to sleep, the Sandman/Boogieman will come and take them to be in a ghost circus. Dear Lord, I did NOT want that. My brother went once. He had to put his shoes on and his coat and my Dad walked him to the end of the drive to meet the Boogieman's minibus, but luckily for him he missed it by a couple of seconds. From that night on, we were deadly silent as soon as the light went out (except the night I had forgotten about homework and I stapled my finger).
There were also some monsters. A monster under the stairs who got you if you dawdled up the stairs instead of going at a 'proper speed' to bed. A monster under the bed who got you if you dangled your arm or leg out, a Plug Monster who got you if you wouldn't get out of the bath, and a monster in the bleach cupboard who got you if you even touched the door handle. None of us ever found out what happened if one of the monsters 'Got' you, because none of us were stupid enough to get Got.
Now as an adult. I think back to these things and think yes. Yes some of these things were quite nice things, with nice stories to go along with them, but some were completely evil, an uncalled for amount of evil actually. Myself and my siblings spent our childhood terrified of things that, not only weren't going to happen, but didn't even EXIST. Everytime I thought of another scary thing or spooky story, I would be really quite upset and want to know why... but the sad thing is, it's made me question my parents' sanity and levels of stability. If I dared to question them, would they destroy me because I had worked out too much? Would I become one of those people who just... disappeared? I doubt it, but I would probably be laughed at, and repeatedly publicly humiliated at Christmas and other embarrassing family gatherings. No I won't ask but I will try some of them on my children. In fact, I already have...
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