I love picking Maddie up. Whether it’s been a few days or four weeks ­– as was the case when I finally got to see her this past Friday – I’m always eager for that moment when she runs to me, jumps into my arms, and squeezes the life out of me.

And I love the car ride home.

As I’ve said before, many a probing and deep conversation has been had in the Jeep during the commute from Noblesville to Muncie … or any drive, for that matter. Catching her at the tail end of a full week of second grade brings, obviously, a lot of decompressing, and far more pontificating than I would have expected … before I became my daughter’s father.

This Friday’s conversation was one I’ve been waiting on for awhile. I wrote on it recently and had a feeling this might be the year the ‘fairies’ of Maddie’s life might fall away.

As we walked to the Jeep after several minutes of hugs and kisses, Maddie showed off her most recent loose tooth. I teased her about getting it out, using anything from twine to pliers to popping her in the mouth (yes, Dad can joke about that in a way that makes her laugh her butt off), but she was having none of it.

Then that watershed moment happened: Maddie floated the idea that maybe, just maybe, there isn’t a Tooth Fairy after all. I sat quietly, a huge grin stretching across my face, and listened as Maddie worked it out in her head. "How can the fairy carry money when the money’s bigger?," she asked. And the tooth? "The tooth is as big as the fairy," she said. “It’s true.”

I love listening to her mind work. Apparently she and a friend (or several friends, I wasn’t quite sure), had discussed the veracity of the Tooth Fairy, and they had come to, well, not quite a consensus, but very close to the decision that it probably doesn’t exist.

What’s more, she didn’t pull me into it. Didn’t even ask. Perhaps these are things only peers can understand.

They say the darnedest things.

As we cruised up I69 on our way home, Maddie gave me a rundown of her soccer schedule the next few weeks. One is October 4, very close to Halloween, she thought. I explained that, no, Halloween isn’t until the end of the month. Didn’t mention the date.

“Wow, that’s 27 days!,” she blurted.

We sat silently for about five or six seconds, both thinking the same thing, though I didn’t realize it until what she said next.

With sincere incredulity, Maddie exclaimed, “How did I know that?!” I laughed, and she laughed, and I complimented her on being smarter than she even knew.

And I realized what remarkable new terrain we’re on. Maddie’s always been smart, but she’s crossed the Rubicon, she’s made that amazing leap from having to always work hard to learn and understand to the point where her brain works for her.

It’s fascinating to be a part of her life, to hopefully help her grow, but also so incredibly satisfying to witness her taking all the pieces that have been provided and put them together in ways that make sense to her and allow her to make sense of those things she doesn’t already understand. 

It’s also raised the bar for me. It’s a challenge I relish.

I know I promised ABC Kids Expo posts – and they are coming, along with video posts on Babytv.com – but I hope you understand I was excited to tell this story. Expo stories to come.

And, as I always feel, thanks for reading.