A Seven Year Old's Philosophy
Catherine Jacobson - May 6th, 2014
There is always that dreadful moment in a parent’s life when they have to decide whether or not to tell their curious, yet innocent child the truth. Steve Jacobson had a particularly interesting experience with his youngest daughter when she was only the age of seven. It was a Tuesday night on the third floor of a predominantly Catholic suburban home. A typical nightly routine halted in the miniature pastel yellow bathroom. Steve was casually lying on the carpeted hallway, for the room was too small for even his standing space.
The daughter kneeled on the bathroom floor while she extended her stick skinny arms to reach for a baby blue stepping stool under the sink. “Daddy, where does the sink water come from?” she pondered while trying not to hit her head on the silver pipe right above the pink elephants drawn on the face of the stool. Steve was use to these curious questions, his daughter liked to know why and how the universe worked. He explained to her the underground pipe system. “So does all water come from the ocean?” “Yes sweetie. Do you have your tooth brush ready?” The daughter climbed onto the stool, and even then she could barely reach the cabinet containing her dental supplies.
She squeezed the remains of her Kids Crest toothpaste onto her mermaid toothbrush. “Daddy, do mermaids exist?” “Not to the best of my knowledge.” The seven year old sighed and looked at her full smile in the mirror. The next question would challenge her father’s parenting skills, and change the daughter’s way of thinking permanently. She stared at her dad’s reflection in the mirror and reluctantly questioned, “does the Tooth Fairy exist?” Steve was shocked by this question. He had to think quickly on his feet, and wondered what the child already knew. Steve didn’t want to crush her spirits, but also didn’t want to lie to his daughter, especially if she already knew the truth. After a moment he responded with a question, “Well honey, what do you think?” The daughter turned around and left a slight pause to contemplate, and then she proclaimed, “I don’t think so.”
Steve was always amazed by his daughter’s curiosity and decided that she deserved the truth. “Well you’re right.” The child was shocked by his blunt honesty, but not surprised at all. In fact, her questions continued. “Does the Easter Bunny exist?” “No, he isn’t real either.” Steve felt slightly bad for destroying her innocent childish imagination, that is, until she replied with, “I knew it!” in here sever-year-old sassy tone. The father guessed the next question, and he was right. That was the day a seven year old found out that Santa Claus doesn’t exist. Steve, thinking that his wife was going to kill him, could have never predicted that next question his daughter would announce. He would tell this story for years to come as a way to prove that his child was always a critical philosopher. She turned the faucet on for a slight second to dampen the toothbrush.
“If the Tooth Fairy doesn’t exist, and the Easter Bunny doesn’t exist, and Santa Claus doesn’t exist, then why should I believe that God exists?”
The daughter kneeled on the bathroom floor while she extended her stick skinny arms to reach for a baby blue stepping stool under the sink. “Daddy, where does the sink water come from?” she pondered while trying not to hit her head on the silver pipe right above the pink elephants drawn on the face of the stool. Steve was use to these curious questions, his daughter liked to know why and how the universe worked. He explained to her the underground pipe system. “So does all water come from the ocean?” “Yes sweetie. Do you have your tooth brush ready?” The daughter climbed onto the stool, and even then she could barely reach the cabinet containing her dental supplies.
She squeezed the remains of her Kids Crest toothpaste onto her mermaid toothbrush. “Daddy, do mermaids exist?” “Not to the best of my knowledge.” The seven year old sighed and looked at her full smile in the mirror. The next question would challenge her father’s parenting skills, and change the daughter’s way of thinking permanently. She stared at her dad’s reflection in the mirror and reluctantly questioned, “does the Tooth Fairy exist?” Steve was shocked by this question. He had to think quickly on his feet, and wondered what the child already knew. Steve didn’t want to crush her spirits, but also didn’t want to lie to his daughter, especially if she already knew the truth. After a moment he responded with a question, “Well honey, what do you think?” The daughter turned around and left a slight pause to contemplate, and then she proclaimed, “I don’t think so.”
Steve was always amazed by his daughter’s curiosity and decided that she deserved the truth. “Well you’re right.” The child was shocked by his blunt honesty, but not surprised at all. In fact, her questions continued. “Does the Easter Bunny exist?” “No, he isn’t real either.” Steve felt slightly bad for destroying her innocent childish imagination, that is, until she replied with, “I knew it!” in here sever-year-old sassy tone. The father guessed the next question, and he was right. That was the day a seven year old found out that Santa Claus doesn’t exist. Steve, thinking that his wife was going to kill him, could have never predicted that next question his daughter would announce. He would tell this story for years to come as a way to prove that his child was always a critical philosopher. She turned the faucet on for a slight second to dampen the toothbrush.
“If the Tooth Fairy doesn’t exist, and the Easter Bunny doesn’t exist, and Santa Claus doesn’t exist, then why should I believe that God exists?”