Sofia Slapped Me With The Truth Behind Tooth Fairies (Or the Lack of Truth in it?)

Last night Sofia lost her first ever milk tooth (a bit too early than usual), it was such a brave act for her to do the pulling. Dad did most of the pep, while I tried to distract myself from it all. I have low resistance to the sight of blood, so there - a major contradiction with my high tolerance with pain.

They both rushed to me, as soon as the tooth was taken off. And I hinted Dad on “how much the Tooth Fairy would give in exchange of the lil' tooth". Sofia just stared blankly, seemingly incognizance of what we were talking about. Since Dad was assigned as the In-House Tooth Fairy, he asked Sofia what she wants to buy so he'll have an idea on how much he needs to sneak under the pillow in the morning. Sofia answered, "I want to buy apples." Dad asked why, and Sofia answered with a simple, "I like apples". Dad asked me if we missed buying apples during the biweekly trip to the supermarket. And I said we forgot to get some because we were then beating the time before it closes.

"Maybe the fairy would give you 50 dollars, so you can get yourself a new bike," I overheard Dad said. (The kids think of money in terms of dollars, so it is such an effort on my part to do quick conversions.) "Maybe," Sofia answered as she inspected her smile in the mirror with the new one-less-tooth set of lower incisors.

This morning, Sofia showed her "new" smile to her younger brother, Luis, who shrieked in horror at the sight. Both the kids have been obsessively conscious of their teeth since they started to have one. I remember that I patiently brushed their first tooth when they're still babies until they learned to do the 20-up, 20-down, 20-left, 20-right, 20-circles- all-around brushing system by themselves.

I asked her how much she got from the Tooth Fairy. And she said none. She said she kept the tooth hidden somewhere (where nobody can find it, like what they did with my phone a few weeks back).

I felt a bit baffle, most kids would jump at the idea that they'd get a toy upgrade in exchange for that single tooth.

"What about the Tooth Fairy? He'd be looking all over for that tooth!" I asked jokingly.

"Come on, Maggie. What Tooth Fairy? This is the City. Tooth Fairies are only shown on TV!" She was almost impatient as she said this - maybe annoyed by the fact that since last night we have been feeding her "the illusion of the existence of fairies" - i.e. Tooth Fairy. (Yes. The kids call me by my first name.)

I was half laughing and half pale from the way she reacted. This four-year old girl snapped and tried to stop me from giving her illusions that most parents are unaware and guilty of passing on to their children. I never got the chance to compose my thoughts to reply to what she had just said; instead we focused on practicing her whistling ability - which she said was affected by the tooth loss. I had to reassure her that her whistling is still as perfect as it used to and that she should not worry about it. Luis, on the other hand, kept touching his teeth - it made me think that he might be talking to them not to leave him just yet. He had a not-ready-for-that-toothless-grin look all over his face. I told both of them that tooth loss was part of growing up, milk teeth go to give way to permanent ones, and that they shouldn't worry much since after a year or two it’ll grow anew.

Later, I began thinking - should I be glad that we have brought the kids up in such a way that they are ripped off of any 'childish realities' - fairies, Santa, etc.? It was easier to make them believe the story of St. Nicholas, than the Santa that most kids believe in. (Where the heck would we find a chimney for him to fit in on Christmas Eve?) As I was growing up, I appreciated more the gifts I got from Mama because I knew how hard she worked for it - and not because it was from Santa. For me then, it was easier to understand that she was the one who truly knew if we we're naughty or nice, than the one in North Pole who had billions of children to attend to.

Or should I worry that they might have missed the 'magic' of being children from their exposure to too much reality? In reflection to my own childhood, I didn't miss any of those. I just grew up to be more insensitive to other people's feelings and tactless - especially to those who need a beating to wake up from their daydreams; and disturbingly too realistic (as Dad would put it).

The rule in our house is simple: When the kids ask, you give them the most truthful answer. In that instance, I have forgotten that rule, and I'm mighty glad Sofia was brave enough to stand up.