The tooth fairy has a near-death experience
That dear little tooth fairy who has, six times, swooped into DD’s room on her dainty fairy wings, taken DD’s teeth and left Dhs 10 under the pillow (causing me violent palpitations on more than one occasion), nearly came to a sticky end last week.
DD was, you see, on a play date with a little girl six months older than herself. Not only six months older, but three years wiser, given she has an older brother.
They were colouring, sweetly, at the kitchen table as I relaxed with a cup of tea.
“You do know the tooth fairy doesn’t exist, don’t you?” I heard the friend ask DD in a chatty manner. “It’s just your mummy putting the money under your pillow?” She carried on colouring, unaware of the bombshell she’d just dropped on my sweet angel.
Sure enough, I heard footsteps, and DD appeared. Thank heavens (or the tooth fairy) that I’d had five seconds to prepare.
“Mummy,” she said. “X says that there’s no such thing as the tooth fairy?”
I looked innocent and sipped my tea.
“She says that it’s just the mummies putting the money under our pillows?”
I continued looking innocent.
“Is that what you do, mummy? Is it you?”
“Of course not,” I said, reasonably, putting my tea cup down in a measured way so as not to meet her eye.
“Oh, okay,” said DD. She trotted back to the kitchen table. “No, it’s not my mummy,” she told her friend. “You might not have a tooth fairy but my tooth fairy is real.”
Oh, the trust.