The Art of Lying to your Children

Long time no post. Turns out Chinua and Renee's "rice fever" was actually a slammer and blaster of a cold, which had me in bed whining for a day and a half. Sinuses, vertigo, sore throat. It's moved into my chest now, so I'm doing a lot better.

My Superstar Husband was at the helm, with the aid of none other than Grilled Cheese.

Also, Fruit Face Guy.

But the big news is this:

The other day Kid A lost his first tooth.

It was also my first brush with the tooth fairy.

We were in a restaurant when the tooth itself came out. Kid A waved his little bottom tooth around the table and we all congratulated him. Then Solo started crying very VERY loudly, and I made a quick exit. I think he hates that restaurant. We've been there three times since he was born for cheap dosas, and he always freaks out.

Anyways, another post on baby freak outs in India on another day.

The day before, we had started talking about what you do with your tooth once it falls out.

"You put it under your pillow, and then the tooth fairy comes and takes it and gives you money for it!" I told him.

"Is the tooth fairy real?" Kid A asked, cutting as usual to the heart of the matter.

"I've heard that she is," I said.

He rolled his eyes and cocked his head to one side. "Please don't listen to what you hear on videos, Mama," he said. "Did you hear that on a video?"

"Noooooo... but I've just heard that you will get money if you put your tooth under your pillow."

Kid A spent his time after that running back and forth between Cate and Renee's house and our house. Cate had some wisdom for him.

"Whether or not the tooth fairy is real," she said, "when you put that tooth under your pillow you will get some money."

But then she started to worry. Maybe we didn't do the whole "tooth fairy" thing. Instead of coming to talk to me about it, she sent Kid A over with this message:

"Cate says that you'll need to email the tooth fairy, to let her know that I lost a tooth," he told me confidentially.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," I nodded. "Yep. She's right. Because we're not in California anymore."

And then the tooth came out.

Kid A ran around the house with his precious tooth, almost losing it every five minutes, until Chinua convinced him to stash it in a Turkish Precious Box that we have. (That's not its real name, but it's the name I'm giving it for the sake of this post.)

When the time came, at night, the kids were wondering whether the Tooth Fairy was a boy or a girl.

"Maybe you could email her and ask her," YaYa suggested.

Suddenly the Tooth Fairy and I had a regular email correspondence, which came in handy when Kid A popped open the Turkish Precious Box and found that it was empty! Oh no!

"It's okay," I said, when tears started to form. I'll just email her and let her know what happened. It's her job! She'll know what to do."

And I was right. There was a five rupee coin under Kid A's pillow the next morning. And, as he told me, she was so strong that he felt her lifting his WHOLE BED from under him when she went to put the money there.

You can imagine my shock and awe.