Swan has a fairy friend who lives in our backyard, in a secret garden that we have. Only it's not secret, but it's a secluded little corner around a beautiful hawthorn tree (sooooo magical!) and several rose bushes. That's the exact place where a patch of poison ivy keeps growing too, but that's another story. Swan leaves presents and letters to her fairy every night. A few times, I've watched the sky darken and I wondered how in the world I was going to be brave enough to go out at night, in the middle of the trees to collect the offerings and leave something. Other times, I just forgot about the whole thing. But one particular night, Swan had prepared a very elaborate gift for the fairy, and I just had to make the effort of going out in the dark. I called Jeff to keep me company and talk to me while I was out in the windy night, and I left a letter and a chocolate for Swan from the fairy. The next day, Swan was so happy that I was worried if what I was doing (pretending the fairy existed) was right.
I figure, we play Santa Claus every Christmas, and just because we don't see them, it doesn't mean fairies aren't real, right? So I play along. One day she will find out, and I hope she realizes how much I love her. Because for me going out by myself in the dark is a sacrifice. I know, crazy, but it's me. Maybe the real fairies see me walk by them with a look of horror on my face and laugh their little heads off. I still want to see one. But in the daylight, OK? Nothing non-human at night. Yes, I read WAY TOO MUCH YA fantasy!