Everybody's cracking up about "The Best Letter Ever Written to the Tooth Fairy," and with good reason: You owe me $1.00. Not to be hard but I need money. It made me laugh, too, but then it made me wonder ... I didn't and don't push the whole tooth fairy myth with my kids. My motto with creatures of her ilk, including Santa and the Easter Bunny, is to neither confirm nor deny. But are my kids missing out on some serious childhood magic?
I wouldn't know. My mother broke the cold, cruel news to me about Kris Kringle and his kind when I was 2 -- she didn't want me to feel betrayed when I eventually found out the truth, she told me later. (Apparently she took it pretty hard when she was a kid.)
So I never experienced the giddy anticipation of tucking a tooth under my pillow and going to sleep wondering how much cold, hard cash would be in its place come morning. When I lost a tooth, I would tell my mother, and she would say, "Okay, I'll put a quarter under your pillow while you're sleeping. Or do you just want me to give it to you now?"
Christmas was similarly low on suspense, particularly because my mom didn't try very hard to hide my presents. Not only did I know they were coming from her, I also knew they were -- oops! Right there, in her closet, unwrapped. Oh well.
I'm not trying to be all down on my mom or anything -- I actually get what she was trying to do, which was to build our relationship on a foundation of trust. But at the time, I just kind of felt like the other kids, deluded or not, were having a lot more fun.
So why am I not one of those moms who goes out of her way to fuel her kids' belief in fairy tales? Why don't I leave a sprinkling of glitter (fairy dust!) on their pillows when I'm doing the dental dollar exchange? I guess because I don't want to influence what they believe either way. If they need to believe the fairy tale, I feel like they will, and they'll stop when they're ready.
At least I actually hide my kids' presents.
Do your kids believe in the tooth fairy?
Image via funnyordie