Confession

Here's an excerpt from a little book I wrote for the Climber when he was 4. I thought I'd share it with you in case you were unsure of why the Tooth Fairy has been collecting teeth from little children all these years. We're picking up the action here after the Climber's tooth had fallen out and the blood made him feel like crying and his father had been unable to satisfactorily explain why the Climber needed to part with his pearly white and he'd gone to bed with the tooth under the pillow only to be woken by a fairy trying to shift his head out of the way. Thus.





Now for my confession:

I didn't give all the Climber's baby teeth to the Tooth Fairy.

Even though I know she needs them, and there could be a fairy dust crisis out there for all I know. But I just wanted to keep a couple. I don't know why. I don't even know what I'm going to do with them.

In fact, so far all I have done with them is hide them in my junky kitchen cupboard, up high (as if that could ever be fool-proof in our house with my children) in the same place as we often keep ... lollies.

So guess what? Climber came into the bathroom as I was about to step into my shower, and, with an air of one determined to make a clean breast of it, he announced that he knew the tooth fairy wasn't real. I stood there reeling for a minute and then, in this order, but with lengthy pauses in between as I tried to work out what to say next, I said:

How do you know? (I found my teeth and a note in a cupboard).
Were you looking for lollies? (Yes)
Bad. (I'm sorry)
You mustn't tell the Cherub. (I already have...why?)
Well, because...err..umm .. he's only little, hasn't even lost a tooth yet...

... and finally, finally I stammered about how I hadn't wanted to give them all away because I just wanted to keep some for myself.




And like a weight had been thrown from his shoulders, he stopped looking so worried and cheerfully dashed out to the tell the Cherub that she does exist and Mummy had just kept a few teeth.