Monday, August 22, 2016

The Going Rate of A Tooth Fairy

Morning Readers,

Ok, now that summer break has come to a close, let's get everyone up to speed, shall we?

If you want to take a few minutes to clap over the fact I got together all the necessary items to successfully usher the twins into first grade, go ahead. I'll wait. No one's more shocked than I. Then again, if you saw a confused-looking woman throwing thirty boxes of crayons into her cart, while she shouted, "Finders keepers, Donna," last week, perhaps you're already current.

When I wasn't hoarding three hundred erasers, the last few weeks revolved around keeping up with the many needs of the Kellerman children.

(Four-to-one is tricky odds when you're a parent. Yes, my capacity to love has expanded impressively, but holding a baby while all three of the others mutiny over a sudden outage of off-brand frosted flakes lacks a certain appeal. I've learned to hum Amazing Grace and throw slices of bread at them until they retreat back to the Lego table.)

Other Things We've Been Up To:

Painting the outside of the house
Painting the inside of the house
Painting the kitchen cabinets
Mentally painting a future where I don't paint anymore

Now that I'm not largely pregnant this year, home improvement is the name of the game. Well, that and lost teeth. Sundance recently poked her front, bottom tooth, declared that it hurt, and quickly realized it was a money-making situation.

"My first tooth is falling out. This means the Tooth Fairy owes me a dollar."

I nodded. "True. Let me look at it."

She crept closer. "Don't rip it out."

"Hmm, the only reason I got out of bed today was to torture a six-year-old, but ok. Huh, it looks like your new tooth is coming in behind the old one. That's different."

"How diff'rent?"

I Googled quickly and got my answer. "No worries. It says here it's called a "shark tooth." So the good news is it's normal. The bad news is you're half shark."

Sundance wiggled her tooth back and forth. "No, that's good news. I've always wanted to be part shark."

"Well, it's settled then. When it falls out, you put your tooth under your pillow, and, after that, we'll release you back into the ocean."



Later that week, Sundance, through unexplained circumstances, managed to misplace her newly-extracted tooth. Because she's understanding, it fell to me to write a quick note to the Tooth Fairy explaining the situation. It was placed carefully under Sundance's pillow, after which, everyone went to bed and waited.

"Morning, Daddy! Look what the Tooth Fairy left me."

Husband looked down at what the little girl was waiving up at him. Then he looked over at me. "A five?"

I cleared my throat. "I'm just as shocked as you," I said.

"Are you?"

"Absolutely. I have a few theories though. First of all, it's been years since either of us lost a tooth. Inflation probably has a lot to do with it. I think I got fifty cents, but that was in 1990, and I think we can all remember what car phones were doing to the economy."

"Mm hmm."

"Besides that," I took a sip of coffee and thought about it, "There's a very high probability the Tooth Fairy is a woman who doesn't feel comfortable going into a gas station at two in the morning to get ones."

"So she forgot to get change?"

"It's a tough job."

All this to say, the Tooth Fairy set the bar pretty high for anyone else who loses their first tooth. Because we made it very clear that a five dollar bill generally appears for a first tooth, but not for teeth which fall out in quick succession.

Then again, if the Tooth Fairy has anymore painting to do, the fumes might cause her to accidentally leave a twenty next time. Who knows? 

Until Next Time, Readers!

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