The tooth fairy is on strike. There are few things in life that make you feel like a horrible mother like absent tooth fairies. A couple of years ago Baba left a letter under her pillow asking for the tooth fairy’s name. I think I went with Pearlina. Not so sure thought, but since the tooth fairy’s striking, I guess it’s a moot point.

I have definite mixed success with the whole covert parental operations. Just this last Christmas, Baba told me that “Santa seems to know my personal style.” Now that’s a successful Christmas. But Mac had two Chirstmases in a row when he discovered the Santa stash. The first year, he was only three, so I might have been able to pull it off, but under the Father Figure’s insistence, I made a last minute run to the store.  The next year, came barreling out my room shrieking “Pillow pets, we’re getting pillow pets for Christmas!” They still did get aforementioned animal cushions. Just not from Santa. No real harm done.

Last year, surveying their loot, Baby said to Baba “Do you believe in the Easter bunny?” and shot a furtive glance at me. I just asked “Do you think I would buy you this much candy?” They both emphatically responded “NO!!!”  So that conversation ended.

  I don’t think of continuing these traditions as lying to my kids. And indeed, when Baby indicated skepticism as to the whole fecund mammal bearing chocolate on the Holiest Day on the Christian calendar, we discussed it together. I had to shut down her original thoughts, due to it happening during dinner. But later on we did talk about how a rabbit that cares about chocolate didn’t really make sense. I asked her if she thought it was more of a game that parents enjoyed playing as a special treat for their children. She said that made more sense.

So I thought I had that awkward, life changing conversation was over. That may indeed be still the case. It would explain why Baby stalked up to me today and announced “It’s been two days and the tooth fairy still hasn’t come. I thought you should know.”  Grumpy Baby frowns on the shenanigans that have delayed her payment.

Although, seriously, who came up with the idea to pay a kid for falling apart? Really, this could seriously backfire on me.