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July 16, 2008

The Tooth Fairy Hates Me

DeborahThe Tooth Fairy and I have a strained relationship. Actually, I think she’s just horribly disappointed in me and I can’t say that I blame her. I don’t know what the problem is. Santa and I are cool. He knows I go all out at Christmas, cooking and decorating up the wazoo. Easter Bunny, no problems. I’ve been hiding eggs since my oldest son could crawl and hunt for them. But, for some reason, I have the inexplicable knack for pissing off the Tooth Fairy.

It all started when my 6 year old came home from school with his second tiny little tooth inside a plastic box from the school nurse. The box was shaped like a tooth and about the size of a gum ball. We hurried upstairs to put the tooth under his pillow, but his bed wasn’t made (shocker) so he put his tiny box down on the bedside table (or so I thought) as we made the bed. When I turned around to get the box, it was gone. No problem, probably fell on the floor. Nope. Neither one of us could find that sucker anywhere.

Thankfully, my son who was getting bored and wanted to go play said, “It’s okay Mommy, we can just write the Tooth Fairy a note.” You see, his friend, Mathew, had swallowed his tooth not too long ago and had come up with this solution. My son felt it was an acceptable method and in accordance with the rules of Fairy world, so that’s what we would do. Fine with me, I was happy we had avoided a meltdown. All was fine until bedtime when my son had a change of heart and decided that a meltdown was now in order and he HAD to have the tooth. Another search ensued. We tore his room apart, inch by inch, no tooth. I was getting desperate. Tears were starting to well up in both of our eyes. So, I did what any quick thinking, desperate Mom would do. I snuck to my jewelry box and retrieved the plastic tooth my older son had used for one of his teeth three years before. And, yes, his tooth was still in there only it was so old it had broken into three pieces. Disgusting, I know, but did I mention I was desperate?  So, I said a little prayer that he would not think to open the box and I palmed the tooth and headed back to his room to casually drop it on the floor by his bedside table.

“Oh, what’s this? Here it is. How could we have missed it?” We quickly (I made sure of that) put it under his pillow and into bed he climbed. Problem solved, or so I thought. Because you see, I believe the Tooth Fairy was so ticked at my little trick that she forgot to wake me up and remind me to exchange the impostor tooth with cash. Yep, I forgot. The next morning, I’m in the living room, drinking my morning coffee and checking emails when my sweet, innocent cherub comes down the stairs with tears streaming down his face. “Mommy she forgot.” For a second, I didn’t know what the heck he was talking about and then “Oh, no.” It hit me.   “And, Mommy, my tooth broke into three pieces.” Oh, for the love of God could this get any worse?

Desperate times call for desperate measures. “Honey, no way did the Tooth Fairy forget. I’m sure the money is there, let’s go look.” I had put the money on my dresser the night before, so I quickly dashed to the dresser and once again palmed my stash and headed to my son’s room. He refused to come look and accused me of going to get money, which I fervently denied, the nerve. It took a lot of cajoling and an Oscar winning performance, but I finally convinced him to come help me look. Within minutes he had found the planted, eh hem, missing cash. He still had questions about the mysterious condition of his tooth, which I tried to avoid because I was fresh out of lies. So, with cash in hand, he proceeded to his brother’s room to show him the miracle of the broken tooth.  And I slipped away to say a silent prayer that his brother wouldn’t recognize his long lost incisor.

Ah, but the Tooth Fairy wasn't finished with me yet. Her cruel sense of humor reared its head once again at the end of the week. While changing my little guy’s sheets, out popped the tooth, like magic. It literally popped up in the air and onto the floor. Damn Tooth Fairy, now she was toying with me. I quickly scooped up the tooth and hid it in my jewelry box for future emergencies.

So, now you see why I am pretty sure the Tooth Fairy hates me.  What really clinched it for me is the letter you see with this post.   It was written just two weeks ago by my oldest son after I accidentally threw out the tooth he had left wrapped in a tissue on the kitchen counter.  Yes, another tooth gone, disappeared. This time, for added insurance, we even took a picture of the gaping hole in his mouth as proof of a missing tooth.  Luckily, no meltdowns for the big guy and thankfully, T.F. remembered to fork over the cash.  Are we cool now, the Tooth Fairy and me?  Only time and a whole lot of teeth will tell.


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