I love the tooth fairy.
How cute is she? She sits (or hangs) there, with tooth in front pocket, and in the morning, viola! the tooth is gone and money has appeared. Okay, well maybe she isn't the tooth fairy proper, maybe she's just our home-spun apparition of the tooth fairy -- the most adorable tooth fairy 'pillow' ever, an assistant to the real, flying, magical tooth fairy. But still.
But the unveiling of the truth was cute as well. My girl had lost a tooth that day at school, and consequently her friends were privy to the fact. Her best friend divulged that the last time she'd lost a tooth there was no jackpot the morning after -- just the bloody bluish tooth on cool bedsheets. She then heard her mom confess to her dad that she'd "forgot to leave the money." Could it be true? Was it in fact true? Her friend, Kaily, didn't press her parents, but was left with this nagging question. Now my oldest wanted to know. Had her friend heard correctly? Was there no tooth fairy?
"Well, mom, I'm waiting," she demanded.
I admit, I waffled. I didn't want to let the lie go, but her little face, with that, "uh huh, I'm on to you" look was too much. She was half smiling, egging me on. I told her the truth. It was time, obviously. But I swear she flinched when I confirmed her hunch. "Really? Really it's not true?!" She was happily incredulous, if that makes any sense at all.
I, however, could not keep my composure when she cheerfully, curiously blurted out, "Mom, where are my teeth; what do you do with the teeth?!"
I was speechless. Where do I keep them? Here and there, in the back of a couple of drawers I thought to myself, although I did not admit this to her. I blushed and told her I'd look into gathering them up for her to inspect. I've not done so. But apparently between then and now she's seen her dad's cache of her teeth, so it's been verified. The tooth fairy is dead to her.
Let's just hope she doesn't kill her prematurely her for her sisters.