Tuesday, December 30, 2008

The Tooth Fairy

I figure that of all the traditional mythological characters, most of my energy goes towards substantiating Santa Claus. Well, first, of course, is Prince, but after that, Santa Claus.

 I really don’t have any patience for the Easter Bunny. I outted that sucker immediately. Why on earth would a rabbit go house to house hiding painted chicken eggs? I’ll have none such nonsense going on in my home.

And somewhere caught in the crossfire is The Tooth Fairy.

I will freely admit I do not have a great track record with The Tooth Fairy. My approach is so half-baked. My heart just isn’t in it. Many are the nights Katie and I are going to bed and one of us will remember, “One of our 18 children lost a tooth! We need some loose change to exchange for this tooth!” And it is surprisingly difficult to come up with change on some nights. I’ve had to look for change in the couch. I’ve had to go out to the car and check my little loose-change compartment. I’ve even had to – and I wish I were making this up – take money out of my child’s little Piggy Bank and put their own money under their pillow! I know it’s not listed in the Bible, but I’m pretty sure this is going to come up on my final exam for entrance into Heaven.

I know I’m not the only parent to have completely spaced the Tooth Fairy business and to have been woken up the following morning with a child waving a tooth clenched between their thumb and forefinger, yelling into your face, “The Tooth Fairy didn’t come!”

Your brain freezes and you find yourself saying the most inane things to cover yourself. Things like, “She must have been really, really busy,” or “Maybe she couldn’t find it,” or “Maybe she was with Prince and they were partying like it’s 1999.” Once I actually heard myself say, “Well, it was the Sabbath. So, you know…we aren’t…supposed…to work…on…you know…the Sabbath.”

My seven-year old, Connor, recently lost a tooth. And we didn’t get the job done the first night. So we gave some lame excuse, and told him to put it under his pillow again that night. And as I slipped my hand under his pillow to find the tooth, I came across something else. A note.

“Dear Tooth Fairy,

Where is my money? I’m not trying to be mean, but seriously, where is it?

Connor”

Yes, to my son, this magical sprite was no longer a wonder and a marvel. She was no longer delightful and mystical. She was a lady that was holding out on him. And she must be dealt with justly.

I almost left the tooth, just to see what the next note might say. I can only imagine.

“Dear Tooth Fairy, Look, I thought we had an arrangement. I think you know how this works. Don’t make me report you. I will have you fired so quickly it’ll knock your own teeth out. You’ll be ‘The Fairy Formerly Known as Tooth.’ You’ll suffer a time period of mediocrity, before you take your name back and rise again to a respectable level of fame. Just make it easy on yourself and leave the money.”