The pink tooth

Settling my little girl to sleep is a daily joy. The agreed scheme to induce sleep involves the alternation of short readings in English, tales of witches and fairy in Italian and the most curious “free talk” where offhand she can choose the theme.
One night, some months ago, we were in China still, it was the turn of this stuff. “Let’s talk!” She started out as usual, and this time she wanted to know more about “the skeleton”, referring to a speech about the mysterious mice friends that overnight replace with pennies the fallen teeth to her peers.
We are used to digress over different themes inspired to the bones, talking about dinosaurs and archaeology, and phalanges and the patella,  and finally the mystery of the death. This dark topic fascinates and frightens Alice, who often curiously  slips into it, but I decided to cut it after his statement, in a broken voice: “When Maya becomes very old and die, I will hug her bones!”. Maya is her Beijinger best friend.
But before she curled up between Morpheus’ arms, my little girl gave me a gem of matchless hilarity. She wasn’t so convinced by that mouse that must keep the tooth at that point,  what does it need for? She does want to keep her own tooth, she already knows what to do: she will colour of pink!

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