Innocence Lost

Last Easter, Daughter 2 came to terms with the reality of the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. She, however, chose to believe in tooth fairy because the fairy's overwhelming job of buying teeth at night made her totally a believable myth. How else could we explain her tardiness and forgetfulness? Personally, I think we should cut her some slack. She does, after all, work a full-time job, maintain a home, cook healthy foods (quit laughing) and do hours of homework for which she gets no grade. She's entitled to forget a tooth or seven over the course of her fairy-ing experience.

Last night, though, as Daughter 2 came in carrying her extracted tooth (which, according to Daughter 2, freaked out her teacher - "it was great!") she not only changed her looks, but she changed her beliefs.

Bedtime rolled around and Daughter 2 placed her tooth in her tooth fairy pillow, then she tucked it snuggly under her own pillow and laid down. "Momma," she sighed, "You know how you told me about Santa and the Easter Bunny?"

I nodded, knowing full well that my tooth fairy days were numbered.

"Well," she continued, "is it the same for the tooth fairy? Are you and daddy the tooth fairy?"

"Daddy? Uh. No. He falls asleep in the recliner before the evening news and barely remembers he has kids. There's no way he could remember to do the tooth fairy business as well."

"Ummmm. Okay. So, you're the tooth fairy then?"

"Yes," I began, "it's just a fun little tradition for parents to acknowledge when our babies lose a tooth. Some parents give money. Some parents give presents. Some parents give coupons for dinner out or a later bedtime."

She thought about this for a moment. "And you decided to give money?"

I nodded my head yes.

"That's good to know, Momma," she smiled, visibly relaxing, "because I'd really like you to leave me $5 for the movies next week."

And just like that, my baby grew up.