Trapped

William Waiting for the Bus

Recently, William, our kindergartener, showed me his Christmas list. It contained the normal requests, Legos, puzzles, books, Play-Doh, all written in his teacher's handwriting. One item caught my attention. About mid way down, William asked for a,

"Leg trap."

Now, this might have alarmed most parents. In fact, I'm surprised his teacher didn't give me a call with her concerns. I knew why he wanted a leg trap. I just wasn't sure how he knew what one was. Some time ago, William started the uncomfortable odd right of passage of losing one's baby teeth. He was very interested in the Tooth Fairy. He left her notes asking a series of questions as in,

"How old are you?"

"Where do you live?"

"What color is your hair?"

"Are you married?"

Just to let you know, the Tooth Fairy is in her twenties, lives on an island, is a redhead and is still available. One time he asked,

"How big are you?"

To which he got,

"About the size of a mouse."

Mouse Trap

I, for one, did not know the Tooth Fairy was so small. The next time William lost a tooth, he set up the game, Mouse Trap, in his room and put his tooth under the red cage as bait. It took him all afternoon. I asked why he had done that,

"I'm gonna capture the Tooth Fairy," he announced.

"Capture the Tooth Fairy! Why?" I asked.

"She sneaks into our house," he reasoned.

"What if she gets mad and doesn't leave you any money?" I asked.

"I just want to see her red hair, then I'll let her go," William explained.

The next day William's tooth was gone. There was no money. A note with a single strand of red hair taped to it read,

William,

Please find enclosed my red hair.

   Sincerely,

     The Tooth Fairy

Now, William was asking Santa for a leg trap. He and his older brother, Aidan, had schemed to use an inverted laundry basket and a stick to capture Santa. They were planning on tying one end of a string to a cookie and attaching the other to the stick.

"That's not a good idea," I instructed.

William looked puzzled.  "Why not?" he asked.

"Remember the Tooth Fairy. She didn't leave any money. What if Santa decides not to leave any presents?"

"I just want to see what he looks like, then I'll let him go," William explained.

I don't think William had thought this through. Messing with Santa while he was at work just didn't seem like a good idea. The dude is on a schedule. Springing a trap on Santa could have dire consequences like getting you top billing on the Naughty List. So I asked William what was up with the leg trap. Apparently, he asked Siri for the best way to capture a rabbit.

"A rabbit? Why do you want to capture a rabbit?" I asked.

"I want to see what the Easter Bunny looks like," William answered.

"I don't know about that Willy," I said.

The thought of snagging the Easter Bunny in a leg trap seemed awful. I had this image of a white bunny with a flowery straw hat and a little wicker basket full of eggs gnawing his own foot off to get away. It's odd that people regard a rabbit's foot as good luck. The rest of the rabbit likely feels differently.

"I thought we could keep him for a while," William surmised.

A lot of children's fairy tales are kind of terrifying with strangers creeping into your house while you sleep. In any event, capturing the Easter Bunny and keeping him as a pet wasn't going to happen. Just take a guess who would be cleaning the cage. No thanks. I don't want any part of abducting the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy for that matter.

And forget about trapping Santa. The dude is like a clown with super powers.

Editor's Note: Originally posted on December 8, 2016.