For me, the hardest part about each year's annual visit is convincing my family to believe in the F----Up Fairy. (Note: Although she is real, I can't print her full name.) In these days of teenagers and tired backs, how I long for more innocent days when the fairy was a part of our lives.

Most parents know the routine. You buy a new toy and it works like magic, turning tears into smiles. Then after a week, it dies, but without the grinding gears or industrial entropy we all grew up on. Even by the late Clinton era, my kids' toys just went - dead. The only way to explain it was that fairy.

We used to have the kids put dead toys under their pillows. Then in the middle of the night, I'd sneak in, slip my hand underneath, take the toy and leave the warranty. Ninety days. All parts guaranteed. And in the morning - ta-daaa! - the fairy had come again!

We believed in the fairy then. And our faith was rewarded when she stuck around to pay us back. In a given one-day visit, the fairy could cause the dishwasher to shudder, the dryer to go cold, the food processor to puke, and my will to pay the mortgage to simply pack up and head for Boca Raton. And all of us would shake our heads and say, "That darn fairy!"

But my family has grown up now, one off to college, another driving. They're too old to believe in the fairy but that doesn't mean I can't. Still, this makes her annual appearance more complex than any warranty or Phillips screwdriver can fix. How does a mature father of two convince his sophisticated teens that this wireless world is governed by an invisible fairy whose purpose in life is to move into homes and make appliances go blooey, then move on?

I can't start with toys anymore. My kids have replaced them with iGadgets that never break down. Anything Steve Jobs made just goes on and on, sucking their brains out. I tried once to blame the fairy for screwing up my back but this ain't the Clinton era, pal. No one feels anyone's pain. So even if my back's out, our refrigerator is on a global-warming kick and the coffee maker is spewing brown bilge, I'm the only one in the house who still believes it's all the fault of the fairy. How to convince them?

I thought it might help to break a few things, so during the holidays, late at night I tiptoed into the kitchen. I jiggled a light bulb until it flickered. I put a spoon in the microwave and knocked the toaster oven upside the head. I changed all the radio station presets to polka channels. Then I tiptoed upstairs, rubbing my sore back.

In the morning, I had further evidence that the fairy exists. The microwave was working fine. Seems someone had removed the spoon. No exploding microwave, which I'd figured for my miracle proof. Still, the light flickered, the toaster oven fizzled, the radio played "Beer Barrel Polka."

Were my kids turned into believers? Did they bow down and worship the fairy? No, they just trudged around the house, listening to their iGadgets that never break down. Steve Jobs - the great Satan.

But I still believe. Call me quaint, superstitious, clueless, but I believe that in a wired world half Steve Jobs' and half my own, there still exists a divine spirit of mechanical mischief who goes from house to house, blessing all but the iStuff with breakdown after breakdown. My atheistic kids might call this spirit entropy. Or planned obsolescence. Or just Dad being Dad. But I call her the F----Up Fairy and I believe.