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The Toy Fairy
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This mess is no match for a three-year-old.
It started with a few harmless teethers. I arranged them in a tidy little basket in the baby's room. I put them next to some boardbooks on a shelf, like knicknacks in a curio cabinet. They even matched the wall paint.
Over the next three years, those first few toys multiplied into an army of blocks and cars and balls and little wooden trains that all but derailed the tranquility of my once-immaculate home. I needed help. I needed . . . the Toy Fairy.
I sat Noah down amidst a Lego rubble one evening. "Noah," I said. "The Toy Fairy is coming tonight." I told him that she comes to little kids' houses after bedtime, to make sure all the toys are picked up. If there are any stray toys, she takes them away. She doesn't bring them back until the next night.
Noah looked at me with wide eyes. Then we scurried around picking up toys. Miraculously, my little three-year-old picked up more toys than I did! We were done in five minutes. No whining. No complaining. Just a little kid making a superhero effort to clean up a war zone so the Toy Fairy wouldn't take his playthings.
The Toy Fairy has been coming to our house for a few weeks now. She has yet to find a toy on the floor.
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