Silicon Valley Moms blog: The rise of the Naughty Fairies

Everyone's heard of the Tooth Fairy. Maybe even the Sugarplum Fairy, of Nutcracker fame. Our household is starting to crowd up with fairies of all sorts. But …d oes it have to be filled with only the good ones?

I swear I'm going to hurl rainbows if I have to enter the overly-simplistic, high fructose corn syrup world of fairy lit one more time (Rainbow Magic Fairies, and their seven million cousins, anyone?). After reading aloud nearly every series on the subject known to childdom, I've begun wishing for some of the amazing Brian Froud picture books of my youth, filled with creatures you'd never see inside a house (much less want to). They're the kind of fairies the ancient Britons used to invoke to scare their little ones into sticking close to home, the kind whose idea of fun is tormenting small children dumb enough to walk into a forest unaccompanied by a knowing adult. No, my little girls aren't ready for that. Maybe not yet.

The Rise of the Fairies most likely began with the omnipresent Disney stories. Now, don't get up on your high horse — my mother works for their Imagineering division (where the theme park animatronics are made), so the kids have been exposed to this stuff since Day One. And I actually happen to like some of the Disney stories I grew up with. (Come on, admit it — bookish, brave, independent Belle is one helluva woman, isn't she?) But even if I had banned all Disneyana from my household, I think my darling mother would have found a way to subvert me and bring that magic into their lives, regardless.

OK, I'll admit I was the one who first invited the Halloween Fairy into the house. Have you met her? She has a voracious appetite for sugar (sort of like my 4 year old), but she doesn't steal what she craves. She's a barter and trade kinda girl. After treat-and-treat-and-even-more-treating this year, Boo and Bug spent a good 30 minutes agonizing at length over which pieces of candy they could part with. Eventually, they offered up 2 1/2 pounds of dental detriment, between them. Beneath the hand-decorated bags, Boo left a detailed note that read, in part: "Your sweet tooth is going to be stoked after you see all this sweet stuff!" In return, the Halloween Fairy left the girls play dough and coloring books and other goodies in grateful exchange. (She's so awesome, she even put some of the leftover candy in my desk drawer at work. Awww.) It's a business model that works for that smart little cookie — I hear she recruited other moms in my neighborhood, this year.