Fairy Tales

My son is seven and is at the point in his childhood where he is losing many teeth. He's also clever without trying to be, a skill most adults will never master. The home school evaluator wondered how he'd do with a sudoku puzzle. I'll spring that on him when we start up with school again.

Anyway, he lost his second tooth in a month and before it goes under his pillow for the Tooth Fairy (he's not clever in quite that way, yet), he's writing her a note asking if they can keep in contact. He thinks she probably knows Santa Claus and so it must be a good idea to stay in touch.

I don't know what's in his head (I know it's not the same number of teeth he had at the start of the year), and that's probably okay. I've always been ambivalent about the lies we tell our kids to perpetuate the Easter Bunnies of growing up time, mostly because I think I'm going to feel quite awkward when they finally figure it out. I thought about fessing up to our nine year old last Christmas but didn't. Shouldn't news like that come from mom and dad, and not some party pooper playmate down the street?

Who knows. Another sad day, and it comes nearly every summer, is that point when you realize your baseball team really isn't going to make it. Despite hanging around near, and briefly at the top, of their division, despite having a record among the top six in all of baseball for much of the first half of the year, they've been passed and just can't keep pace. Today I watched them lose in extra innings but, from a postseason perspective, it no longer matters. Part of the magic of summer has gone. Things were so cheery in April.