So Zoe has become obsessed with fairies and proving they are real. Her classmates think she's an idiot, but she argues that at her house if you leave them honey, sugar, berries, and some other junk they leave you presents in return. This is because I am too stupid to get off a sinking boat when I see it. And so instead of purposely ensuring that the fairy gifting machine only worked when Zoe was visiting her friend Carey, I allowed the insanity to creep to our house.
Lately kids in her class have been picking on Zoe -- even her former best pal -- because everyone in 2nd-3rd grade knows that aliens are real and fairies are fake. So (in a top secret PRIVATE CONVERSATION, a big deal at our house) I broke down and spilled the beans about me being the one who put out the fairy presents and cleaned up the honey-berries-sugar glop. Which immediately led to a question regarding who, exactly, was the tooth fairy. Well . . . me. How did I photograph the tooth fairy then? Photographed a night light. What about the pretty paper she wrote the note on? Mine.
Then at dinner, she whispered in my ear to ask if I was also the Easter Bunny and Santa (let's face it, even she knows it's not Dave). I nodded. She started to cry. Again. Jude complained about all the classified information being bandied about and noted that it's not healthy for families to have secrets. To which Zoe replied that if he found out this secret he would be "crestfallen."
She cried some more before bed, then thanked me for some of the crap she had thought Santa or the Easter Bunny had given her. Best. Mom. Ever.