"Yikes" I thought to myself when I saw the date on the newspaper,"We are nearly through the century and the only marks I have left on the world are a few footprints in the butter." I have these moments when I suddenly remember my adolescent dreams of reforming the world have fallen, shall I guardedly say, rather more than a trifle short of fruition. Little did I realise that an event was to occur that would cause even the world, with all it's problems, to pause and gaze aghast at the calamity which had just taken place.

From the corner of my eye I caught the blur of a fast moving projectile in thigh length green and white striped socks come through the door and launch itself at me from a distance of about ten feet. Now I was not unaccustomed to such attacks and was able to field this one comfortably into my arms. What was unusual was that the small face pressed against mine was wet, and on bringing it into to focus the reason for this became clear, there was a steady stream of tears. The tiny mouth opened to draw breath and the nature of the disaster was revealed. There was a gap where once there had been a little white tooth.

Valiantly suppressing the overwhelming urge to burst out laughing, I hastily murmured words of reassurance, gave a parental guarantee, which carried some prestigious weight in those far off days, that "No! You are not falling to pieces, it is quite normal for little girls of your age to lose baby teeth." Thus having restored confidence with a masterful combination of wisdom and warm fuzzies, I relaxed back into my chair with a rue grin when I noticed that the look I was receiving was not one of a comforted offspring, far from it, I was being subjected to a withering glare of scorn which bordered on the contumacious!

From the stream of invective that followed I gathered that it was not the loss of the tooth that was the problem, this had been an expected event, it had been loose for two days I was informed, and immediately felt guilty that I had not been aware of this pre-prepared defanging. "The tooth is gone!" I was finally able to deduce. I was somewhat flustered, as this was obvious from the toothless expression. Further evidence, such as toothpaste artistically spread over half of the small visage, which suggested that this loss had occurred during the evening ritual, did little to elucidate matters further. I was at a loss!

Aided by a further stream of almost intelligible explanation and wild gesticulations the light dawned! The tooth had escaped down the plug hole, and therefore could not be sacrificed in a small glass of salted water as an offering to the Faeries, who as everyone knew, accepted these enchanted pearls and left in exchange gold and silver, beyond ones wildest dreams of avarice!

This was a matter of great consequence and needed the cunning of a Machiavelli coupled to the diplomacy of a Saint. I naturally rose splendidly, and modestly, to the occasion. A plan was immediately devised whereby a letter, addressed to the Queen of the Faeries, would be left, which contained a full and graphic explanation of the horror of this catastrophe. Compassion would naturally follow, as all knew of the boundless goodwill of such Faeries, and thus the consequences would be averted enabling gold and silver to flow as milk in the promised land.

The appropriate epistle was drawn up and placed strategically with the added incentive of a half chewed peanut brownie. Smiles returned, the waif went happily to bed.

Once more sunk in contemplation of the impact I could make on this troubled world of ours, "I know!... I could invert a wondrous device which enabled one to eat corn on the cob without the butter running down the arms!!!" As I pondered the mechanics of this I became aware that two rather serious, beautiful, brown, twelve year old eyes, so like her mother's, were regarding me. " Er... yes Penny?" I hesitantly inquired, quickly checking to see I had not developed cloven hooves or suchlike.

" Do you know you have lied to Kristine! When she gets older, she will never believe anything you say, ever again! There are no such things as Faeries!" Turning with a smooth movement she left the room with the air and dignity of an Amazon Queen who has just passed the death sentence on all the males in her kingdom.

I was stunned. I had a Philistine living in my house! That is, if Philistines could be Amazons! A flood of doubt rushed over me... what if she were right! The bedtime story was gracefully, if not enthusiastically, received and a dread stillness settled over the house. I retreated to my study ... and there "Upon a midnight dreary..." the answer came.

Faeries was finished that evening. Suitably embellished with illustrations and stuck on glitter, it lay on the foot of her bed like the Scarlet Ribbons of song, awaiting the morning.