My 9 1/2-year old son lost his first molar last night so we had to talk about the Tooth Fairy.
"It's you, right?"
"What do you think?" I said. I hate to just blow up beliefs. My husband, on the other hand, was dying to tell our kids there was no Santa Claus from the time they were four.
"I think it's you. I mean, what would the Tooth Fairy do with all those teeth?"
"It is me."
"So, what do YOU do with all those teeth?"
Cut to this morning: I had put his tooth in a plastic baggie prior to the Tooth Fairy discussion in case he still believed and wanted to put it under his pillow. (Note to young parents: I've learned that putting the tooth in a baggie makes it MUCH easier to find in the middle of the night when you're digging around under your kid's pillow in the dark trying not to wake them up.) He came down this morning holding the baggie-with-tooth aloft.
"Aha! Look what I found!"
"I'm sorry," I said. "Do you want a dollar?"
"No," he said. "I'll just wait for tonight."
He's putting it BACK under his pillow tonight! He knows there's no Tooth Fairy. He knows that I'm going to sneak in in the middle of the night and fish around for the baggie and leave him a dollar and, apparently, that's the way he likes it. He is the King of Suspended Disbelief.
Sometimes I wish I had someone to explain my own son to me.
On open letter to the lady in my neighborhood:
6 hours ago