Lily has her first loose tooth, and she is not happy about it. She was in hysterics last night after biting into the apple which loosened one of her bottom teeth. She carried on for hours.
Of course, to try and make her feel better, I regaled her with stories of the magical tooth fairy. Lily, I whispered softly, when you sleep the night after your tooth falls out, you put it under your pillow and a fairy comes and trades it for money. How cool is that? Her eyes grew large. Her sobbing halted. You mean somebody sneaks into my room at night? When I’m sleeping? And she takes my teeth? The cries intensified. What does she do with them? Is there blood? Does it hurt? I want my teeeeeeeeethhhhh!!! Why is this happening to me?!!!
And so, I told her. I told her everything. I explained that there are no fairies, no sneaking in rooms and no collections of teeth in the sky. Her dad and I would be the ones responsible for placing the gold coin under him pillow and there was nothing to be afraid of.
And, in an instant, the magic was over. And so was her crying.
It’s a good thing we don’t need to carry on the Santa charade in this house– I’m not sure how well the heavy set man with rosacea plummeting down the chimney would sit with her. I’ll just have to hope she doesn’t spill the beans for all of the the less cynical children out there. It’s no fun to be the one to let them in on the truth. Even if they’re asking for it.