A Lost Tooth! And a Confession.

The Smell has lost her third tooth! It started wiggling a couple days ago, and jokingly, I suggested she bite into an apple to dislodge it. Well, that’s just what she did. I heard a squeal from the living room and I found her apple in one hand, tooth in the other. She had a startled look of pain on her face; the tooth was not entirely ready to come out. But the brave girl wanted a visit from the Tooth Fairy.

And now to the confession.
Do you believe in fairies? We do. We believe in them wholeheartedly and without reservation. In this house we don’t do Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, Cupid, or any of the other mythical creatures attached to holidays. But we do believe in fairies. I didn’t plan it that way, it just happened.

We were talking about fairies one day and how they might live in the tree that shades our back yard, when out of my husband’s mouth I hear, “Did you know Mama is the QUEEN of the fairies?”. With all wide eyes turned to me, what could I do but agree and elaborate? I am the Queen of the Fairies of our Backyard Tree, there being many other trees in the world, I can’t be queen of them all. At midnight I shrink and fly out to tend to my kingdom. My husband always interjects that this is the reason I cannot get out of bed in the morning, ha, ha. The girls cannot go, because they are only half fairy – that’s right, their father is not of pure blood. I can’t remember if he is some other type of fey or just human, but since he’s not fairy they have no interest in his part of the story.

This whole fairy idea is elaborate and magical and wonderful. Just when they begin to question the reality of the thing a fairy will leave flowers on their pillows, notes tucked in the fence by the tree and little fairy people (pale imitations, but fairies cannot live indoors, you know) hanging from their bedroom ceiling.

When my mom last visited we saw “The Tooth Fairy” starring The Rock (side note, my kids call our president The Rock Obama and I don’t correct them because it’s just too cute), and did it demolish our carefully constructed fairy house of cards? NO. It cemented those cards with a mortar of silly putty and sugarplums. We left the theater with Elia wishing she could meet a fairy – “if a hockey player can be a fairy, why can’t I?” She began a letter writing campaign to her personal fairy to be allowed to the tree.

I am not entirely certain when the fairy jig will be up, but I am going to enjoy it for as long as it lasts. Elia is 7 now, and surely she won’t be tricked by her Mama for much longer. Although looking back, I believed some pretty crazy things my dad told me until I was beyond old enough to know better, so maybe this will last a bit longer. Maybe they act like they believe for my sake, who knows? I know I truly enjoy the wide-eyed wonder in their eyes as they bring me the latest treasure their fairies left them, and I want it to last a good long time.

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