I am not a good tooth fairy. That I am sure of.
The Boy lost a tooth while eating a brownie at Nana and Pappa's house. It was kept safe in a plastic baggie until he returned home and could put it in his tooth pillow.
Like all crafty moms, I took him to the fabric store when he got to that "wiggly-tooth age" and let him pick out what he wanted: skulls...shocker. It has had quite a bit of use, so the excitement of a lost tooth has waned. So last night we put the tooth in the pillow, read our story, turned out the lights, kiss kiss, hug hug...now back to downloading music onto my iPod. I even asked The Mr. if he had a dollar...yes he did. So, no problem.
Except I never played tooth fairy. Never even gave it a second thought. Until this morning when I hear a very unhappy child yell, "What's up with this? My tooth is still here! Why didn't that tooth fairy take my tooth?"
Crap. Think fast. You are good at thinking on your feet...you were a preacher's kid for goodness sakes...it's how you got through your teen years.
So, I go in. I am shocked. "You are kidding...your tooth is still here?" Meanwhile The Mr. is getting some cash...and as if he has read my mind he drops it on the floor right outside the bedroom door. He says, "What's this out here buddy?" That would be my cue.
Apparently, that tooth fairy had a busy night gathering teeth. The Boy just happened to be her last pick-up, and she had so many teeth that were so heavy she had dropped the money outside the door and would have to come back tonight. I have heard of that happening...haven't you?
I don't even think The Boy even truly believes in the tooth fairy...he is in that "I don't think it's real but I am not going to take any chances" mode. He really just wants the dough. And he got it. Two dollars...one for the tooth and one for parent guilt.