It has recently come to our attention that your son's account with with BunnyTooth Polar Enterprises was recently canceled. As he had been a cardmember in good standing until three nights ago, we were understandably concerned by his sudden departure from our Good List.
We quickly launched a thorough investigation into the probability that someone -- namely, you -- had tampered with his account. Our investigators began monitoring all suspicious activity in your area and have produced evidence that clearly shows that on the night of August 22 he woke briefly at 10:30 p.m. and asked why you were standing over his bed with your hand searching around underneath his pillow. Then, two nights later, on August 24 at approximately 9:30 p.m., you did knowingly and with absolutely no forethought for the harm it might cause, gently acknowledge your son's nagging doubts and admit to him that you, in fact, had acted as the Tooth Fairy in order to make the milestone of losing his baby teeth "a little more special."
When confronted with this deception, your son went on to demand if you were also the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and the person who both mixed up a batch of magic "reindeer food" with him last Christmas Eve and then later, after he fell asleep, went back outside and made what looked like a bunch of hoofprints in said mixture of oatmeal, colored sugar, and glitter. You said that in the face of his direct questioning it was impossible to lie to him.
A representative for BunnyTooth Polar Enterprises has filed suit in Santa Barbara Superior Court on your son's behalf stating breach of trust and emotional duress, requiring that you be responsible for damages and court costs.
We do appreciate that you held him while he cried his heart out, and assured him that you have lied about nothing else to him, up to and including faking a belief in "some guy with a white beard sitting on a throne up in the sky judging everybody" for his supposed benefit. We also acknowledge your patience, snuggling with him until he felt better and staying up with him way past his bedtime to play a game of Operation (which, we note with irony, "we" gave him last Christmas). But he's only seven years old, for crying out loud, couldn't you have stretched the truth for another year or two?
Disappointedly,
Ann Elf
Executive Account Manager
Disbelief Division
BunnyTooth Polar Enterprises, LLC