My Son At Six Was Adamant I Am The Tooth Fairy

It was the middle of summer and my six year old son was at school today, although he was due home within the next fifteen minutes.

I was sitting on the verandah, coffee in hand, watching the world go by, waiting, when I heard my home telephone begin to ring.

I rushed inside to answer it and found Sharon on the other end. Sharon is my son’s school teacher.

“Colleen, just ringing to forewarn you. Your son lost a tooth today and he told me that he believes you, his Mum, are the Tooth Fairy, and therefore the Tooth Fairy does not exist,” Sharon explained.

“Oh no, I’m not ready for my little boy to grow up and stop believing in the magic of such things as the Tooth Fairy. Sharon, do you know how he is planning to prove it,” I asked.

Thankfully she did and she gave me all the details that he had given her. Things like, he was intending to change into his sports T-shirt, which was in his bag, before coming home because he’d gotten blood on the shirt of his school uniform.

She also let me know where he intended to hide the tooth so the Fairy wouldn’t be able to find it and would therefore prove it was me. His logic told him if the Tooth Fairy was magic, she’d be able to find it no matter where he put it.

I’m truly lucky Sharon rang me or the magical gig would be over and that can’t happen, he’s only six years old.

It was only five minutes after Sharon and I had said our goodbyes, when my son walked in through the front door.

I turned to say hello and noted he was walking through the house with his head down. It was extremely difficult not to laugh and confess to knowing what was going on. But no, I had to pretend it was just a normal day. A day like any other.

I kept myself busy and served up some freshly baked muffins. I asked him if he’d like a muffin for his after school snack.

He couldn’t help himself and lifted his head to look at me. Credit where credits due, he did keep his mouth closed as he looked at me and nodded yes.

This head down or mouth closed, lasted throughout the rest of the night.

Hang on you ask, “How did he talk to you, surely he was not silent all night? Did he talk with his head lowered?”

No he didn’t. Every time he spoke, he would lift his hand and place it in front of his mouth. Like any adult would do if talking with food in their mouth. I don’t think you’ll ever know how hard it was for me not to crack up and confess. But I stood my ground and let it play out.

The night soon come to an end for my son, it was time for bed. He went without a fuss and that alone would have told me something was up. Any other night, he would try to talk me into staying up later. He hates bedtime.

Not tonight though. He happily climbed under the covers and I kissed him goodnight after I had read a chapter of his favourite book to him. Lights out and goodnight my son.

The rest of the night was a mixture of chores and watching TV, until it was time for me to crawl into bed.

One last thing to do before bed. I dug out a twenty cent piece and went to my son’s hiding spot. There I exchanged the money for the tooth, as I’d always done in the past.

I remember smiling to myself as I started to doze off. My son was a very intelligent little boy but his Mother was the winner of this round.

What seemed like only hours later, I was suddenly woken by a very excited boy. It felt like it was the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t of course but the sun had not been in the sky for long.

I carried on the charade and asked him to settle down and tell me why he was so excited. I asked if he’d had a good dream maybe.

No he quickly told me he lost a tooth yesterday and this morning he found the Tooth Fairy had left him twenty cents. He was so excited he wanted to go to the shop, right that instance, so he could spend his money.

Oh, the gorgeous smile on his face that also shone through his eyes. It reminded me why I wanted to keep the magic alive a little longer.

All’s well that ends well. We have a six year old believer in the house again. Makes for a happy Mother.

Just to cement the belief once and for all, one month later, Father Christmas left my son a gift on the end on his bed on Christmas Eve. A book about the Tooth Fairy along with a tiny velvet drawstring bag to hold his next tooth when he looses it.

My six year old’s logic said if Father Christmas believed the Tooth Fairy was real then it must, in fact, be true.

Who am I to argue with that glorious logic?

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Originally posted on Medium