Have I mentioned lately how much our tooth fairy sucks?
Big Kid lost his last baby tooth, an occasion that should have been marked with some sort of tooth fairy fanfare, one would think.
After his Santa silence this year, I wasn't sure that I should suggest putting his tooth under the pillow but when I did, he said that of course he would, with no trace of humoring me. He's not a very good actor, so this is puzzling.
Unless he's such a good actor that he's acting like a bad actor sometimes to throw me off? It's confusing, people, I feel ill prepared for this tween/teen business. He 11 and reads Steinbeck and has opinions on Einstein's theories of relativity...it's got to be a long con, right?
But, surprise, surprise, our tooth fairy was a no show on the first attempt. Except this isn't a surprise at all because she fails to show one out of every three visits. When he announced her absence over breakfast, I'm certain my frustration with her was written all over my face.
"Oh. Huh. Well, you have all of those pillows on your bed. And it's dark and all. And you flop a lot. Maybe you should leave it on your nightstand. Your brother did that the last time and it worked out well."
"Good idea. I'll do that."
The tooth wasn't on the nightstand that night, or under the pillow. Tired, confused and a steady underachiever, she shoved a small wad of cash under the mess of pillows anyway. Three dollars, due to the late fee.
At dinner later that week, he said, "I put the tooth on my nightstand two days ago, but no tooth fairy."
"Are you sure? You should check."
"I did. The tooth is still there."
"Did you look under your pillows for money? Maybe she left the tooth. Remember how you swallowed the first two and then asked to keep that other one? She's probably confused now."
"What would she even be doing with these teeth? If she's really building a castle full of teeth, that would take about one week at the rate kids lose them and--a castle built out of teeth? All bloody with bits of gum and cavities?" He shuddered. "Gross."
"It is gross," I agreed. "The tooth fairy is weird. Maybe she shines the teeth up and makes pearls out of them. Or maybe she's building something like the Great Wall of China but with teeth."
little kid agreed that would be cool and was a very real possibility.
I continued, "Or maybe that's how dentures are made. Gross. Can you imagine old people walking around with little tiny baby teeth? That would be so creepy! " We all considered that for a moment, with a mixture of laughter and horror before I had another idea.
"Oh, oh--you know how teeth have DNA on them?" I dropped my voice to a slow breath-y whisper. "Maybe she has a life sized doll of every child in the world and she puts the lost teeth in one by one and when the final tooth is inserted into its socket..."
little kid stretched his hand out, fingers spread in the universal sign for "STOP." "Mom! Seriously, do NOT say another word. Ugh. What is wrong with you?" He looked disgusted.
"Yeah, there goes my childhood," added Big Kid. "You are so weird."
The tooth fairy is weird.