Recently, my son lost his second tooth. He proudly brought it down to the breakfast table.
It was his turn for show and tell at school, and he brought it in. I saw all the other kindergarten kids clapping him on the back in the school yard, a few of the boys shook his hand.
When I picked him up, the school nurse had given him a tiny plastic tooth that stores his tooth, and also serves as a necklace. That night, he put the necklace in a jar next to his bed. When I asked him about it, he said that his tooth was too special, and he didn’t want the tooth fairy to take it. I asked him if he didn’t want to trade it for money – the tooth fairy always leaves money. No.
In the morning, lo and behold, there was 2$ on his night table. I explained that the tooth fairy knew it was special and didn’t take it, but left him some money for loosing his tooth anyway. His response: I didn’t know the tooth fairy was that nice.
All of this got me thinking about how open a child’s eyes are. They do not see things with the pre-conception that we, as adults, do.(Of course, I was also wondering about the ramifications of my children actually believing in the tooth fairy – how did that happen??)
I also realized, that in order to write to my fullest potential, I would have to be open in the same way. Sometimes, as I am writing, the story shifts, it goes to a new place I never entertained. I will fight against it, trying to keep things consistent with my initial structure or idea. Yet, when I let go, and allow myself to be taken, it is then that the story truly comes to life.
Here’s to the tooth fairy!