by Risa Green
My daughter lost her ninth tooth a few days ago – one of those side teeth that kids lose once they’re a little bit older. Teeth one through eight occurred between the ages of five and seven, and they were pretty simple. She put the tooth under her pillow, the tooth fairy came and left her a note and a few dollars, and in the morning she came running excitedly into my room to show me. But this ninth tooth was a little bit trickier. When I asked her that night at bedtime whether she’d put her tooth under her pillow, she gave me a funny look. Um, mom, she said. There’s something I need to tell you, only I’m afraid to tell you because if you know that I know the truth then I’m afraid you’ll stop doing it. I gave her the standard, you can tell me anything reply. Okay, well, you see, I think that you’re actually the tooth fairy.
I looked at her with a straight face. Why would you think that?
Because I know you are, she said. I told her I had no idea what she was talking about, and she rolled her eyes. Mooooooom. I know you are because I was on the computer a few weeks ago, and I saw a file called Tooth Fairy Letters.
I continued with the straight face. That’s so weird. The tooth fairy must be using our computer.
I’m not the tooth fairy, I told her. Okay, she said, indulging me. But if you are, please don’t not leave me money, because I’m saving for a laptop and I’m counting on those two dollars.
I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ll see you in the morning.
The next morning she got dressed, ate breakfast, watched a little tv, and said nothing about the tooth fairy.
So, did the tooth fairy come last night? I asked, nonchalantly.
She nodded. Oh. Interesting. Did she leave you money? Nod. Did she leave you a note? Nod. What did it say?
Really? You forget? Can I see it? Because I’d like to know if she’s still using our computer without my permission. I mean, I have some very personal documents on there and I don’t want some random little fairy person going through my files.
She handed me the letter, which was typed in purple ink in a cursive, girly font. After the requisite greetings and congratulations, it said this: