So SnaggleTooth has come back to live at our house. When that first of the Two Front Teeth comes out and the second scoots over to enjoy the improved real estate, there’s just something freaky about that dangling, flapping tooth in the middle of a mouth. My oldest had it hard when this one was born (consequently she’s smile-impaired in all Ellie’s baby photos), and now it’s Ellie’s turn to look like a bad carton witch.
I was patient for a couple of weeks. Really. Then I just had to start bugging her.
“Doesn’t that bother you, just hanging there?”
“Hey, want me to put that tooth out of its misery?”
“Maybe that one will bring big bucks from the Tooth Fairy…”
It was a Friday evening, and the tooth was literally swinging in the breeze of her breathing. Dad threatened (in a terribly nice way) to Take Care of That For You. She came to my lap in tears, so I said, “Here. Let me see.” She innocently opened, I reached in, gave a quarter twist, and out it came. Plus quite a great deal of blood. Oh, dear. The blood. I hadn’t banked on making this ordeal any more traumatic than it had already become.
I mopped her up for a couple of minutes, gave her a popsicle (nothing but the best of modern medicine for MY kids) and sent her to find her Tooth Pillow. Just something I whipped up one day when I only had two kids and a lot more inclination to be a cute mom. So she’s on the hunt for the Tooth Pillow, to no avail. No pillow. It’s likely buried under months of the toys/books/laundry she didn’t feel like dealing with, which are now heaped beneath her bed. So I give her a baggie. She wants to put her name on it. I do not want to scrub Sharpie out of my countertops, so I tell her don’t bother, the Tooth Fairy will find it. Somehow she takes this to mean that the tooth fairy will find it without any further work on her part. So she neither reminds me nor places the tooth in an obvious location. Curses!
When she wakes next morning, she’s crying. Again. Because, apparently, the Tooth Fairy did not find the tooth. The tooth is still on the counter near the keys. Still in the baggie (which is now labeled in Sharpie “Ellie’s Tooth”). Not shiny. Not jingling. Not earning interest.
Blast that wretched Tooth Fairy. Doesn’t she realize that Ellie is a third child? Can’t she see that this poor kid gets the shaft at every turn? Did anyone make Ellie a cake for her first day at Kindergarten? Nope. Did anyone mail her a birthday card so she could find a surprise in the postbox? Never. Did she ever get to pick the movie/playlist/game/story (insert one)? Not lately. So what’s a mom to do about a forgetful Tooth Fairy?
Put Daddy on it, natch.
Job done. With interest.