Oh dear, sweet Tooth Fairy, your days are numbered here under the Big Top. Of course you know it. I imagine you are reveling in it too as you roll around on the floor in your pink, fluffy tutu throwing tooth fairy glitter up in the air, laughing with joy as it rains down upon your bearded self.
Yes, the Tooth Fairy here under The Big Top is a dude, a dude with a hairy chest, a bit of a beer belly and a beard. And after collecting teeth and letters for more than twenty-one years, the Tooth Fairy Dude is so ready to be done. He even has passed his job on to us mere mortal parents…okay parent because a certain clown would not fall asleep one time.
You can not even begin to imagine how traumatized I was pinch-hitting for the burly fairy. The kid was literally hugging the pillow his tooth was under…hugging with his arms and his legs wrapped around the pillow protecting that Ziploc bagged tooth from anything real or unreal. And he had his lights on. And the cat snuck in with me and jumped on the bed waking the kid up just as my hand slipped under the pillow to leave the gold dollar coin and grab the bag.
I might have whispered, “Oh shit!“. Maybe. Perhaps. I don’t know.
Stroking his forehead, I whispered, “it’s okay, sweetie. Zelda got in here by mistake. Let me get her out. Go back to sleep.“
Yes. I blamed the cat.
Whatever, Zelda. Get over it. I’m not going to be the one who spoils the Tooth Fairy magic. The next morning Daniel remembers that somehow the cat got into his room, past his latched door and, yes, thank goodness I discovered that and got her out before the Tooth Fairy came bringing yet another gold dollar coin for his collection.
Yes. Thank goodness!
According to Daniel’s dentist, only two baby teeth remain, both rootless and having no reason to remain in the boy’s mouth.. Yet they do.. One would likely pop right out if a certain 12 year old boy would push and pull on it with his tongue or his fingers. The dentist told Daniel that.
“EW!!! NO!!!“, Daniel replied with complete revulsion as a child with oral defensive behavior would.
“Suit yourself.”, the dentist shrugs. That tooth will eventually come out on it’s own the dentist tells Daniel. As for the other rootless baby tooth, well, it somehow is wedged between a new tooth anxiously pushing through the gum sideways and other teeth. That tooth needs to be extracted. And so it was extracted, in pieces like broken egg shells.
Daniel carefully wrapped the broken-up tooth into an envelope and placed it in a Ziploc bag along with a note explaining how the tooth came out and why it was in pieces. He then placed it under his pillow before bed. Yes, the pillow he wraps his arms and legs around protectively while he sleeps.
The Tooth Fairy sent me a text…YES, the Tooth Fairy has my number and YES, the Tooth Fairy does text me occasionally…Please, nobody tell my darling husband. I mean it!
Couldn’t get to the tooth. Left the money though.
Clearly this is a tooth that continues to be difficult to extract.
Meanwhile, Daniel is kind of pissed off at the Tooth Fairy because leaving the tooth and the note behind?! Who does that?! Whatever happened to “No Tooth Left Behind“?
“You DON’T just LEAVE the TOOTH!“, he emphatically declared…as he added yet another gold dollar coin to his collection.
And so we wait for the very last tooth and the very last visit from the Tooth Fairy, which I do hope he will get right. I already made sure the Tooth Fairy know that I am not taking that job for him because we do text one another occasionally.
I wonder if it is not too late for us to adopt the way that Millennial parents work with the Tooth Fairy.
No, they did not invent breastfeeding or baby-wearing or cloth-diapering or co-sleeping like they imagine that they did. But this, this genius I will give them credit for. Hang that on the doorknob with the tooth. Tooth gets picked up. Gold dollar coin gets left behind. Boom! Nobody gets hurt.
We’re doing this!