To my future sixteen year old Bombshell,
Today you are only seven, and I am still the centre of your world, but it won’t be long until you are sixteen and hate my guts. You will tell me I don’t understand you and that I never do anything for you.
With this in mind I am writing you this letter today, to let you know you were always loved, and are still loved.
The other night you left this note for the Fairies.
We’ll discuss your shocking hand writing and spelling another time, but when I saw it, I knew I had a small window where you still believe in Fairies (or are you just humouring me?), and I wanted to do something special for you.
So today, while you were at school and I should have been working, I went to the garden store. I spent time talking with the experts about seeds and bulbs, and came away with a special pot, some gladioli bulbs and a totally awesome ‘rubber duck’ watering can.
Then I dug up part of the garden to get some fresh dirt (carefully neatening it so you couldn’t tell I’d been digging), planted your bulbs, decorated it with this authentic Fairy toadstool, and hid it in the cupboard in a classy nappy box.
Then I wrote this:
Tonight while you are sleeping I will leave the note in the Fairy Letterbox and place the special pot and watering can by the front door. When you ask to check the letterbox tomorrow morning (like you have been all week), I will shrug my shoulders and pretend to be distracted and warn you that the Fairies are very busy and you shouldn’t expect an adventure just because you want one.
Then I will walk away and busy myself making lunches or putting the dishes away, and when you call me excitedly I will feign surprise, and all the time I will be restraining the urge to grab you and hold you and cover your joyful little face with kisses.
I can’t wait to see your face when the first bulb appears above the soil, and though it may be months before we see a flower, I will enjoy watching you sprinkle the Magical Peace Dust, like clockwork, every week. Because now you have an adventure and a mission, you will be focussed and determined.
And I know that when you are sixteen and hate me, or thirteen or eighteen, you will still be focussed and determined, although much of your energy will probably go into making me miserable. But when that day happens - and I don’t want it to, but it will - I will tell you to find this story and read it. And you’ll hate it and complain, but eventually you will, and you will be reading these words: I love you.
And I will do anything for you.
Even pretend to be a fairy.