Both boys sat in front of me at the breakfast bar this morning. I asked them normal questions about their night—“Did you sleep well? Did you dream? What did the purple minion do?”—as I turned to stare at the coffee pot. I stared really hard.
And then I heard BigBrother ask LittleBrother, “Did the Tooth Fairy come?”
I froze. I think the coffee pot froze as well. In fact, I’m quite sure time froze. Because I knew the answer.
The Tooth Fairy, in fact, did not take the—gag—tooth from the pillow and replace it with money. Because the Tooth Fairy has insomnia and it totally slipped her mind. Or she got caught up watching episodes of The X Files and Frasier. Or celebrating the dog on National Dog Day by finding her blue football and tossing it around all evening.
Or I just totally forgot.
This has never happened before, because teeth falling out of my kids’ heads usually results in me nearly vomiting which causes me to remember until bedtime. And into the next day. And into the next day. And forever. Because teeth.
My saving grace, however, was that the tooth fell out of my youngest child’s head. He’s a laid back kinda dude. When he rolls out of bed in the morning, he moseys to the bathroom and then moseys to the kitchen. He slumps in his seat and waits for breakfast. He slowly starts waking up. He’s just kinda chill, kinda, “Hey, it’s morning. You know.”
And so I sprung into Super Animated Mommy Mode. Which is really difficult before coffee, especially when you’re not sleeping well. I fast-walked into my office, grabbed the dollar—which I set out the night before because you know—and fast-walked back into the kitchen. I quickly noticed that BigBrother was already done with his breakfast.
“Uh! Well, to keep your brother from stealing your money, I’m going to go guard your Tooth Fairy pillow!” And then I ran off to his room, shut the door, fished out a tooth with my finger (OMGGAG), slammed a dollar into the pocket, shoved it back under the pillow, and sat down on the bed. Three seconds later, BigBrother opened the door with a grin on his face.
I played it up big time. “Oh no. Not YOU. I won’t let YOU steal your brother’s Tooth Fairy money!” He sprung into a fit of giggles as I chased him out of the room and LittleBrother came racing in. He retrieved his pillow, pulled out the dollar, and grinned a grin with one less tooth.
I texted my husband later to alert him to our near catastrophe. We laughed.
And then BigBrother came home with a tooth in a little carrier from school.
Photo: Anthony Delanoix