The Tooth Fairy

So, the tooth fairy came to our house a couple nights ago. Actually, it was an early visit for the tooth fairy....right after dinner.

Dan was in Abby's room helping her clean up (aka barking orders while lying on her bed), and Ryker and I were in the kitchen discussing techniques for getting that front tooth out of his mouth. I was suggesting a twisting, versus a pulling, manuver. As Ryker twisted, I did something a little mean. I gave his hand a little smack. With cat-like reflexes, he caught his tooth as it fell out of his mouth, his eyes enormous in disbelief. He was so excited, because I just told him I'd never helped either one of my children pull a tooth. Ryker was glad I got to have a part. Isn't that sweet, considering I'd just lightly punched him? Anyway, he ran to tell Dan. And then he got all excited that the tooth fairy would come to bring him money. At the same moment, he and Abby remembered -- oh right. there is no tooth fairy.

A couple weekends before -- Sunday, Sept. 25 -- when Ryker asked a question about Santa. It was the 157th example of one of them asking a Santa question that we'd been successfully dodging for quite some time despite promising we'd share with them the real Santa story, the better Santa story about Saint Nicolas. So Dan corralled the kids and -- in front of unsuspecting grandparents -- spilled the beans, all the beans. Santa, the Easter bunny and the toothfairy all came tumbling down. They took it rather well, and throughout the day, Abby would have little revelations like, "Oh, you had to put together the xyz toy that one year!" And "You picked out the American Girl doll you knew I wanted." Ryker, I'm sure, is still processing it all.

So, Dan says "Here's your toothfairy money," and reaches in his wallet to hand Ryker a dollar bill. We -- Dan and I -- exchanged a look. YES!!! The moment we've been waiting for, the night we don't have to plan and plot, sneak and lie to try to get a dollar under a pillow only to fail miserably and make up a story about the toothfairy's schedule and try again the next night. HIP. HIP. HOORAY.

And maybe sniff. sniff. My babies are growing up. No more toothfairy. No more Santa. (Personally, I've never been keen on a creepy six-foot bunny sneaking in the house on Jesus' sacred holiday, so there's a lot of relief on that holiday!) I've got to snap out of it. It's not like it's the end of their imaginations....we'll have so much more to look forward to and experience together. And it's time to enjoy, and I mean really enjoy (my plug for Ryker-isms) the real meaning of Christmas!