I want to tell you about the great tooth fairy debacle of
2012. This great injustice just happened
to take place at my house and I admit my follies, only because people everywhere,
particularly overworked and tired parents will appreciate what I am about to
describe.
It all started out so innocently. My nine year old daughter lost a tooth. The next day the dentist redid the wiring on
her braces and handed her the small white baby tooth, smiling as he informed
her that teeth with a bracket attached are worth extra money from the tooth
fairy. Easy for him to say, he’s not paying for the bracket. On the way home,
my daughter examined the tooth, prattling on about how she wished she could
show her friends the next day. That
night, my daughter placed her tooth on the dresser next to her bed and went to
bed dreaming what she would do with her upcoming windfall of cash.
Here’s what happened next.
Morning #1. My daughter approaches me and says, ”The tooth
fairy never came last night,”
I scramble for an excuse coming up with the less than brilliant,
“Wow, she must have known you wanted to show your friends and gave you an extra
day.” I wonder if lies about fictitious
magical beings count as lies since they are lies about a lie. I hope so because
some bigger ones were coming.
Morning #2. My
daughter comes in, her forehead scrunched in confusion and says, “She still
didn’t come.” I know exactly who “she” is and while silently berating myself
say, “Are you sure it was visible enough?” My daughter is smart, but maybe she
thought the tooth fairy wasn’t the brightest fairy in the forest so she went
and smoothed out the clear bag that held her tooth and moved any books or lip
gloss that might confuse the tooth fairy-making her tooth painfully obvious.
Day #3 She didn’t
even come into my room in the morning. Instead, just before bed, while I am
tucking her in, she looks at the tooth skeptically and then climbs under her
covers. I leave the room willing myself to remember to go back after she is
asleep.
Day 4 She wakes to an untouched tooth but by then, I’m
already onto the days lists of task and have long forgotten.
Yes, at this point, I realized, I totally suck!
That night I walk into her room and find my
daughter frantically searching all around her dresser. “What are you looking
for,” I ask. “My tooth,” my
daughter answers. The tooth really is gone but I know my husband and I did not
take it and we most certainly did not leave any money.
Now my daughter thinks the tooth fairy is a rogue tooth
bandit, taking the goods but leaving nothing in return.
Scrambling again, I tell my daughter I need something from
my room. As I walk through the master bedroom I call out in an unnaturally loud
voice, “Honey, did you pick up some money in Ainsley’s room , maybe on the
floor. She can’t find her tooth fairy money,”
Oh yeah, I wasn’t going down alone.
Now sucked into the pit of lies, overly loud, he responds,” I did, the cats knocked
some money from her dresser onto the floor so I picked it up.”
I know, blaming on the cats…we’d hit a new low.
Now he’s moving fast to get to his wallet before she busts
us. He breezes by me with two dollars. I stop him, “better make it three,” I
say thinking about all the pain we’ve caused her. Several minutes later I go in her room and
listen as she recounts the elaborate story her dad told her about cats and
money and it’s all I can do to keep a straight face.
After my daughter is settled into her bed, just before I go
to leave, she turns and sleepily asks, “Is it possible that the tooth fairy is
a man?”
I pause for a minute, wondering why she asks this. Does she
think men are more disorganized, forgetful, or maybe a man tooth fairy got
distracted by a football game? I’ll
never know, but being big on avoiding gender stereotyping in our house I answer,
“anything is possible honey,” With that, she turns over and drifts off to sleep
and finally, the great tooth fairy disaster has come to an end.
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