BEDA #15: Tooth Fairies, Racist Holidays And Other Lies My Parents Told Me

Going to the dentist was never one of my favorite pastimes, but my last visit was especially unpleasant. I was sitting in the chair, my mouth opened uncomfortably wide and my eyes squinting in the light of what looked like a miner’s torch on top of his head, as I tried to read my dentist’s facial expression. Even though it was hard to make out much of his face behind his glasses and mouth mask, I didn’t think he looked particularly worried, so I relaxed a little, until:

                ‘It looks like your upper left wisdom tooth doesn’t have enough space. As it stands now, it’s likely that it will push your other teeth out of place.’ He said.

                ‘What does that mean?’ I asked anxiously, speaking as clearly as I could in spite of having medical tools and what felt like ten sticks of cotton wool in my mouth. I feared the worst, and with good reason, because:

                ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to remove it sometime in the future.’[i]

I, having worn braces for over four years only to get my teeth in the somewhat straight state they are in today, was rather upset by this news. I was also very scared at the prospect of possibly having dental surgery, so, naturally, I whined to my mother about it. She, however, had a word of comfort:

                ‘Look at it from the bright side!’ she said, with an unconvincing smile.

                ‘I fail to see a bright side to this situation.’ I replied, sadly.

                ‘Well, there’s always the tooth fairy.’ She sniggered.

I could only laugh about this comment, so I guess it cheered me up slightly. It did, however, also make me think about the tooth fairy as a concept. I suppose it’s not surprising that an important aging process like losing your baby teeth is surrounded by a myth, but sometimes I can’t help but think the adults were just trying to find out how many nonsensical stories they could make their kids believe before they would start asking questions, all the while laughing at their our stupidity.  This made me think about other lies parents tell their children, and especially the lies my parents told me. Less than true stories I was told as a kid certainly weren’t limited to the existence of a tooth fairy.

For example, whenever there was a rainbow in the sky, my parents used to say that the chickens were celebrating carnival. I know that sounds ridiculous. I can’t even imagine how I could ever have believed that, but apparently I did, because in second grade, after my teacher asked the class when rainbows appeared, I raised my hand in Hermione-like fashion and replied enthusiastically:

                ‘When the chickens have carnival!’

My mom, who heard the story through my confused teacher, still likes to recount the tale and laughs herself silly at my foolishness. I wasn’t a little Einstein as a kid, it appears. I must have thought colored light beamed from chickens having a great time, which is kind of sad, because, really, most chickens don’t have a very great life at all. Oh, dear, I didn’t mean for that dark turn to happen. Moving on!

Another curious and rather cruel thing my parents used to say, was that my sister and I weren’t their biological children, but that they had found us under the bridge near our house. Again, this is a weird thing to say and it makes me doubt my parents’ sense of humor. I imagine they got the inspiration from the stories of Moses and Romulus and Remus, but I am at a loss as to why they applied a similar story to us. But then again, this came from the same people who, whenever we asked where they were going, replied in acted seriousness: ‘We’re leaving the country on a little white horse.’

The things I’ve mentioned so far really seem to have had no purpose whatsoever, but my parents also fed us some lies to teach us lessons. For instance, to keep us from chewing on our own hair, they told us that this could lead big hairballs to form in our bellies, which we would then have to throw up the way cats do. This gory, yet kind of awesome warning was very effective, although I don’t really get why chewing on your hair is such a terrible habit.
Likewise, to keep us from pulling weird faces and sticking out our tongue at random people on the street, we were told that if we did either of those things, and the clock started to chime, our faces would fix and stay weird forever. I don’t know if it was as a result of this story, but to this day, I have never stuck out my tongue at anyone.

Maybe the most wide-spread of lies parents tell their children, is the one of Santa Claus. After all of this, you might be surprised to know that my parents told me Santa was fake from the start[ii]. Santa Claus isn’t very popular in the Netherlands, and even though we celebrated Christmas and decorated the house with some Santa Claus figurines, it wasn’t about getting gifts from that fictional character. We celebrated another holiday instead on December fifth. This very typical Dutch holiday is called ‘Sinterklaas’, and the story around it, is that at the end of every year, Saint Nicholas comes to visit from Spain. He arrives with his helpers in November on a large boat, so he can give all the Dutch kids gifts on the evening of his birthday, December 5^th. Saint Nicholas’ arrival is a grand spectacle including a parade that thousands of people go to watch, and it airs live on national television.  It involves special Sinterklaas songs, actors dressed up as Sinterklaas and his helpers, and the throwing around of cookies. Then, from the day of his arrival up until the actual celebration, Saint Nicholas visits towns[iii], leaves gifts and candy in children’s shoes, and every evening there’s a news show all about him, which is no less serious than the regular eight o’clock news. Basically, the entire country works together to trick the children.

[A sidetrack, but I wanted to note something problematic about Saint Nicholas’ helpers, otherwise known as ‘black Petes’. The thing is that they are black, whereas Saint Nicholas, who is basically their boss, is white. You can interpret this as sending the message to little children that white people are in charge of black people. Also, the story of Sinterklaas tells us that, to deliver presents to children, black Petes would climb through the chimneys to get into their houses, which is given as an explanation for their dark skin color. These things are both extremely racist and factually incorrect. On top of all this, there is actually a Sinterklaas song that literally translates to “Even though I’m black as soot, my intentions are good”, which is just so wrong that I don’t even know what to say about it.]

Anyway, to return to the story, Sinterklaas is one of the best kept secrets in my country. Yet, believe it or not, I figured out that Saint Nicholas wasn’t real before I figured out that chickens weren’t responsible for rainbows. I was seven years old when I realized that the handwriting on the presents I got for Sinterklaas was that same as my mother’s and my parents tell me that I “cold-bloodedly confronted them about it and didn’t seem surprised in the least”. Maybe I was a little Einstein after all.

Why was I writing about all of this again? Oh, right, I’m getting my wisdom teeth removed.  Well, that sucks. As to conclude this post, I still have no idea why parents tell their kids weird lies. I suspect they just like to sit back and laugh about it.

So, that’s all for today. I have to go leave the country on a little white horse.

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[i] By the way, have you ever noticed how dentists and doctors always say things like “it looks like”, “it seems that” and “I’m going to have to”? Even in Dutch, they tend to use similar euphemisms. What’s that about? It’s not like it make things any less scary and/or painful…

[ii] I’m sorry. I really hate to you if you didn’t already know. I hope you were sitting down.

[iii] Here’s a clip of me playing the saxophone at the Sinterklaas parade in my town last year: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaUBHdcgfdg