Once upon a time, a little boy named Wilder lived with his family in a wee brick house situated deep in the enchanted forest of Starmount. His father, Christoph, was a kind and hardworking man who traversed the land each week to to ensure that fellow countrymen would have plentiful CAVA pita chips. His fair, raven-haired mother, Cassandra, wove stories together for the townspeople’s entertainment.

One Sunday evening, huddled around the kitchen table with his mother and father, Wilder pushed away his plate of warm, soft pita bread and steaming lentils.

“My tooth is wiggling,” he lamented. 

“Oh, ‘twill soon fall out!” his mom exclaimed, clapping her hands together in glee.

Little Wilder’s eyes welled with tears. “Will it hurt?”

“No, my son,” quoth Christoph. “Alas, it happens to all of us. But I bear good news! New teeth doth grow in their place. Just look at your mother’s beautiful smile!”

Blushing, Cassandra grinned for her beloved. “And,” she leaned in and whispered, “if you put your tooth under your pillow, the Tooth Fairy will bestow upon you a gift.”

The next morning just before the golden sun rose above the trees, Christoph loaded his trusty steed, Ford, and promised a safe return. But, of course, that very evening as Wilder was brushing his teeth like all good boys do, he felt something strange. With his elfin finger, he plucked something white and wondrous from his mouth and beheld it in his open palm.

“Your tooth!” Cassandra exulted! 

He burst into a fit of giggles. “The Tooth Fairy is coming tonight!!!”

His mother dressed the excited child in his bedclothes and tucked him in. “Sleep well, my love,” she said, “for the fairy only visits sleeping children.”

But lo, the Tooth Fairy, who should have known this day would soon be upon her, was ill prepared, yet determined to make her first visit extra special. Little boys love insects, she thought, but fireflies were out of season. As luck, or perhaps magic, would have it, she reached into her drawstring pouch and pulled out a 5-pound gold coin — the perfect first tooth prize. 

She rummaged through cabinets, stumbling upon a strand of twinkling, tiny fairy lights. Ah, better than a hundred fireflies! Soon after, she discovered a clear purple unopened bottle of bubbles. Who doesn’t like bubbles?

Flitting into Wilder’s chamber, she snuck her spritely hand underneath his pillow and swiped the tooth. Pecking him ever so softly upon the cheek, she left her offering, glimmering magically, on his bedside table. Pleased with her last-minute merry-making, she patted herself on the back, fluttered her wings and dashed off into the starry night.

A few hours later, Cassandra was awakened by a sound. The fairy? But her door swung open and in walked a weary Wilder.

Tears streamed down his rosy cheeks as he sneezed and wheezed, tiny, iridescent bubbles emerging from his nostrils and ears. When he opened his mouth to speak, his breath smelled faintly of Dawn, his mother’s dish soap.

“The Tooth Fairy came,” he hiccuped, “and she brought me water that I don’t like!” Out came a mournful wail, followed by a string of bubbles that floated to the ceiling, where they popped in a rain of tiny, glimmering droplets.

Cassandra leapt out of bed and dashed to his room. The twinkling bottle sat with its lid ajar, easily mistaken for some sort of magic potion — or, for a parched and sleepy little one, a wonderful draught of water. 

“Did you drink this?” she asked.

Wilder nodded sadly and coughed, another bubble springing from his lips.

After an ancient cure — animal crackers — to cleanse his throat, the effervescent coughing simmered down and he settled into bed, where he quickly dozed off into blissful slumber. Every few breaths, a small bubble escaped from his nose. 

     And every now and again to this day, if a bubble blows by you on a twilight breeze, you can be sure that, somewhere, Wilder is snoring softly. As for his mother, she’s still weaving fantastical yet mostly true stories together for the townspeople.