Although Alice doesn't yet have any loose teeth, she has started writing notes to the tooth fairy. The first one went like this:

TOOTH FAI

RY WE ARE GOING GO SLE
EP ON TOP
BUNK
LOVEALICE

It took me a while to translate, but I did eventually figure out that Alice was informing the Tooth Fairy that she and Lucy have ditched the bottom bunk for the top. And while the Tooth Fairy probably figured out they were there before she received Alice's dispatch, I thought it was awfully cute that Alice took it upon herself to initiate the correspondence.

The Tooth Fairy replied, of course. She even attached a wee rose of pink silk and stuffed the whole thing in an envelope left over from Alice's birth announcements.

Alice was delighted by the note. But she had a question. "Mom, did you help the Tooth Fairy? Because this rose is exactly like the ones in your desk."

"She has permission to use my supplies," I said. "Now stay out of my drawers, little missy."

The next day, snoopy Alice fashioned a fake tooth out of paper and Scotch tape. She dictated a longer note to Lucy:

Dear tooth fary I am sorry that I left a facke tooth. I rilly want you to geet this note. I have three questions. 1) Wat's your name? 2) Are you a boy or a girl (circle one). 3) If you could use teer droops, what would you whair? Can you draw your head?
Love, Alice

This is four questions, so Alice is not only snoopy, she's sly.

Nonetheless, the Tooth Fairy—Rosabella Sarsaparilla, a female of her species—assembled an attractive reply. Rosabella Sarsaparilla hoped this would satisfy Alice, as the task of assembling cunning notes in the wee hours of the morning is sort of a pain for the Tooth Fairy.

But Alice had more questions. The next day, this was under her pillow:

DEARTOOTHFA
IRY HOW DO I GET TO
FAIRYLAND?

The Tooth Fairy was stumped at first. Was this a time to write a meaningful piece about faith, wonder and imagination as the keys to being transported to realms beyond? No, the Tooth Fairy decided. It was not.

That sounded too hard. So she wrote directions:

Fly to Squeezledump Downs and turn left at the Redenbacher Gate. When you see the Arkwallader, show him your Paskatoony Rim.

As far as I know, these directions work perfectly well. They will certainly not get you anywhere but Fairyland. But then Alice wrote one more note, which was sort of a stumper.

I AM NOT A FAI
RY
I AM A HUMAN
LOVE, ALICE

When Rosabella Sarsaparilla wrote her response this morning, she told Alice that she loved her and her sister. She said she realized that Alice was only human. Then the Tooth Fairy assembled her attractive letter using one of the last of the wee silk roses and birth announcement envelopes.

Apparently, though, she left the text of her reply on the computer screen when she left the house to get some exercise before the rest of the humans woke up. Alice noticed that the words on my screen were the same as the ones on her Tooth Fairy note.

Lucy covered for me, telling Alice there was NO WAY I was her Tooth Fairy. But she typed the following message for me:

Mom! This is   lucy.  that  was    not  nice! To alice.
Now  tell   us   the   rell   story. Martha! By lucy.

You know a kid means business when she calls you by your first name. When I got home from my workout, Lucy took me into the backyard.

"I'm old enough to know the truth, Mom. Are you and the Tooth Fairy the same?"

I put my arm around her and tried to get my mouth to tell the truth. But it wouldn't behave.  So I tried to change the subject. "Aren't those flowers pretty?" 

"Mom!" Lucy said. "I read this book that said the Tooth Fairy speaks thoughts through the parent's brains and they just know what to write. Is that how it happens?"

"It's something like that," I mumbled. "Look, a bird!"

Then Alice came out and tried to give me the third degree. She was even easier to distract with nature than Lucy. But maybe it's time for me to fess up. Alice already put it pretty well. I AM NOT A FAIRY. I AM HUMAN.

And so I'm afraid the era of magic and fairies and nightly note exchanges is coming to an end at our house. I'll miss it, probably even more than the kids. 

(Martha is on vacation this week, so this is an encore of a previously published post.)