“I lost another tooth!” my 8-year-old daughter shrieked as she ran towards me with the little bloody specimen. I pretended not to gag (I survived as a pre-med student for two semesters before dropping out, following a gruesome dissection lab involving a nasty rat). We carefully placed the tooth in a miniature plastic chest under her pillow.
“Try to fall asleep early tonight,” I whispered in her ear as I hugged her. “I hear the tooth fairy is very busy these days.”
We walked back into the kitchen and my daughter asked whether the tooth fairy visited me in Israel when I was growing up. I told her the truth. “We didn’t have a tooth fairy in Israel back then. But I’ve heard that now she is able to make it over the ocean and visit kids there, too.”
Sweet dilemma in participating being the Tooth Fairy and Santa. We played along too. My 8 year old still believes in the Tooth Fairy. We have convinced him that we are Santas helpers. I am sure my older children realized or “found out” about who was real but never told me about their discoveries. I love my mom and she messes up on other life conversations. Loved your article.
This is a really nice story. Now if my sons can only keep their mouths shut when I tell my grand children outlandish war stories like the time I was shot down over the Bering Sea with and fought off hungry barracudas with a pointed belt buckle only to be saved by passing Eskimos on a Polar Bear hunt. Or the times I buried the shiny nugget remains of melted aluminum soda cans from the camp fire in some place where I needed a hole dug. I sent them looking for a silver mine. They dug deep and fast finding a few nuggets and helping out with the hole I needed. I watched and emptied another one and tossed to the fire to add to future mining operations. They remember those times and stories with smiles on their faces and I’m sure will repeat them hope no one spoils the fun.