During a trip to the dentist last week, Zane was ecstatic to learn that he had a loose tooth.
Harper didn’t lose a tooth until First Grade, and I suspected that Zane would follow suit. Sure enough, on schedule, after only a week into First Grade, it was time time to check-off his next milestone.
Following that exciting trip to the dentist chair, Zane spent the entire week wiggling the darn tooth – and even entertained the idea of tying one end of a string to his tooth, the other the door handle, and slamming the door.
(No. Of course we didn’t.)
As we patiently waited for the gem to fall, Zane discussed an important matter with me.
“You know, ” (wink, wink) “there is such thing as a Tooth Fairy . . . MOM.”
“Zane, I am well aware of the Tooth Fairy.”
“I wonder,” (wink, wink) “what she will leave under my pillow . . . MOM. $20.00?”
“Nope. Think again.”
The day came. Zane woke on Tuesday morning, and out came the tooth. No blood. No drama. Just – out it came, into his palm.
We placed it in a little plastic treasure chest, and he set it on his night-stand in preparation for the over-night festivities.
“Have a great day . . . MOM . . . I bet you’ll be busy doing . . . um, stuff . . . MOM!”
I don’t know what’s worse: surprising the kid who believes the Tooth Fairy is real, and thus dreams of discovering an enormous booty fit for a pirate under his pillow, in place of the tooth, or the kid who DOESN’T believe the Tooth Fairy is real, and is just waiting for his parents to come through in a big way. We’d never discussed it, but it was clear that my kid was waiting to see how I’d perform.
Pressure. It had been so long since Harper lost a tooth that I found myself fumbling. It was midnight when I actually remembered . . . and so, admittedly, I
borrowed, stole 4 quarters from our Christmas Jar, and as duty calls, placed them under Zane’s pillow.
The next morning, he wasted no time throwing his pillow off his bed. Thankfully, he let out an enthusiastic, “Woo hoo!!!!!!!! MONEY!”
I was relieved. And even a little proud. I did good. I rocked the Tooth Fairy gig, (even though I had to resort to petty theft.) I kept it simple. No gimmicks. Classic.
I eagerly waited to receive the props I deserved from my beaming son.
“MOM! Nice try, but you forgot about the tooth! LEAVE the MONEY. TAKE the TOOTH.”
Doh. I knew that . . .
I’ve never liked fairies.