Mikey came shuffling downstairs early this morning with his head hung low, his lower lip protruding and carrying a Ziploc baggy.
"Hey bud, you're up awful early this morning," I said.
He held up the bag. "The Tooth Fairy forgot."
Oh crap! I felt about as big as the tiny little tooth in that baggy. How did I forget? I've been out of the Tooth Fairy habit for a while. But he was so excited yesterday. I should've remembered.
Thing is, in the summertime we all seem to go to bed at the same time, so I'm not able to complete the transaction at night. So this Tooth Fairy usually does her business in the early hours of the morning.
But I forgot, plain and simple. And he was devastated.
Being a 7-year-old, I marveled at his plausible explanation for the oversight.
"It's that stupid headboard. The baggy fell behind my bed and she couldn't see it down there," he said in earnest.
"Do you think, Mikey? Maybe we should tape it to the headboard tonight so it doesn't fall behind your bed," I said.
"Yeah, maybe that will work. But what if she's not strong enough to pull the tape?" he asked.
"Well then she can just open the baggy and get the tooth out," I said.
He seemed satisfied with that answer. And so I breathed a little sigh of relief and have put a Post-It on my nightstand that reads, "TF." Think we may up the ante on this tooth to $1.
6 comments:
Oh honey, that faux pas is worth way more than a dollar! Just think of all the therapy he's going to need because you let him blame himself! (I AM LAUGHING I PROMISE I'VE DONE THE SAME THING)
Hah! I've got a friend with an only child the same age as Mikey and he came over to tell me he got $10 for a tooth! I told him not to tell Mikey. Too rich for this Tooth Fairy's blood. We used to get a nickel.
It was a quarter when I was a kid. Max got a dollar when he was taht age and Raya, because I believe we did indeed forgot, got a Barbie doll. Matthew hasn't lost any teeth yet so I better get my act together.
(PS - this is a totally awesome story and you should do something with it - ahem)
We got either silver dollars or 50-cent pieces -- pretty much seemed like the same thing when you were that age. They were so cool that you saved them in a jar rather than spending them, so the amount was pretty much immaterial.
Perhaps the Tooth Fairy compensates on a sliding scale? You know, the more kids in the family, the less the tooth is worth? That must've been the case in my family. We typically pay $1 for the first tooth, but 50 cents for everyone after that. I did take him with me to Heinen's yesterday and bought him Fluff, you know that marshmallow creme? He had a Nutter-Fluffer sandwich at my friend's house and has been begging me to buy it since. (I've been meaning to talk to her about that.)
He'll probably loose all his teeth sooner with the sugar content in that stuff. But I was weak, weakened by my own mother guilt.
So you were giving him less than a dollar before that? Ha ha! Anyway, I know how it feels. It's because the support for the tooth fairy fantasy runs in our family. It dates way back to my grandparents' time. My mother had told me that it was her parents' way to lessen their fear of the dentist. I guess the tooth fairy helps the dentistry in Atlanta in a way.
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