I killed the tooth fairy.

I did it. I killed the tooth fairy. Now I feel guilty about, but what was I to do?!?

Here's how it happened. Last night before dinner, I was sitting at my computer editing photos of my pendants. Indigo crawled into my lap to cuddle as I clicked away. We were talking about the woman pendants--she decided some of them looked like her, some like me, and was telling me which was which. In sweet 7-year-old fashion, she asked me to make one that looked just like her and list it on etsy, telling everyone that it was her.

Suddenly, mid-conversation, she pulled away from me a little bit and looked directly at me. "Mama," she said, "Tell me the truth now. Do NOT even lie. Is the tooth fairy real?"

I stumbled for a second in shock of the question. I have always felt a pang of guilt surrounding the tooth fairy, Santa, and other such creatures that are fun to pretend about but are really a big, fat, lie. My stomach turned a bit as I tried to decide what to say. Gain some time, answer with a question, "Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?"

"Ma-ma! For real! You have to tell me the truth. Is the tooth fairy real or is it you that comes in and puts the money in there?"

I sighed. I have always been honest with her, sometimes giving kid-versions of things, but still being honest. And I expect her to do the same. At her young age, we have even talked about periods and how babies are made, in answer to her questions. I just couldn't lie to such a straightforward question. "Yes, honey, the tooth fairy is really me. I'm sorry to tell you that, but it is just a game that we play."

"So it was you that wrote those tiny notes from the tooth fairy?"

"Yes, it was me. How do you feel about that?" She put her head on my shoulder and hid her face a bit. "Are you okay Sweetie?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Pause. "So, what about Santa Claus?"