That would be me. I often manage to ruin the imaginative ideas of my kids by telling them the truth. I have a huge problem with being totally honest with them about (almost) everything. *almost - I can't tell them about Santa yet - I enjoy that more than they do. Shame on me!
The other evening, Maia & I were out on the deck & she was asking about the stars. I pointed to the sky & told her they were there. She looks up & can't see them. It's a clear night, so I know she can, but I get it. I tell her they're the white little dots up there. She tells me nu-uh. Stars have one, two, three, four, five (points). Oh, yeah, the ones we draw do, I tell her, but the real stars are just little points of light in the sky. I point to the night sky & make her see. She says...ohhhhhh. Like she gets it. Then she asks me what they are made of. So I use Pumbaa's explanation about them being giants balls of gas out in space. She says, gas? Ewwwwwwwwwww. I think I ruined the mystique of the stars for her. :(
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