Thursday, May 14, 2009

The Tooth Fairy Cometh…or Does She?

Last week my son had a dentist appointment. He had a really loose tooth, so the dentist “helped” it come out and gave it to him in a little box. The Pastor warned the son, “Don’t lose that tooth or the tooth fairy won’t come.” But like most seven year-olds would do, he immediately lost the little box, and the tooth was gone.

After work, when I saw my guys at dinner, my son came running up to me crying.

“I lost my tooth,” he wailed, “and now the tooth fairy won’t come.”

Not knowing what The Pastor had told him, I assured him “It’s okay, tooth fairies have a way of knowing that a tooth has been lost, even if it’s not under your pillow.” By bed time, the poor kid was completely confused and climbed between his sheets not really knowing if he would find money under his pillow or not.

I hadn’t been sleeping well for about four or five nights prior to that one, so I did something rare and took a sleeping pill. As I was lying in bed, beginning to get extremely groggy, I asked The Pastor if he was going to stick to his guns or go ahead and put some money under the pillow. I knew his answer before he gave it. One thing I know about my husband is that despite his tough-guy exterior, he’s one humongous softie.

Here’s where the story gets sad and slightly embarrassing. Neither of us had any money. The only thing we could come up with was to borrow money out of my son’s own piggy bank and pay it back later. (So much for those Parent of the Year awards…) By this time I'm barely putting together a coherent sentence, but I know that he’s got it covered, so I let myself drift off to sleep. Dilemma solved…or so I thought.

The next morning, I awoke to my son standing beside the bed looking at me.

“Well, I guess the tooth fairy didn’t come.” he said as he climbed over me into the bed and crawled under the covers between The Pastor and I.

“Are you sure?” I asked him. I knew I was drugged the night before, but I had a distinct recollection that the plan was that The Pastor put a five dollar bill under his pillow. (Don’t even get me started on the price of a lost tooth these days!)

“Yes,” my son said, “I’m sure. But something else really strange happened last night.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“Well, I found the five dollar bill that Granny gave me for my good report card under my pillow.” I snickered and poked The Pastor. “Honey, I’m pretty sure that money was from the tooth fairy.”

“No, Mom, it really was my report card money from Granny!”

“How do you know that?” I asked him.

“It still has the sticky note on it that says ‘Good job!! – Love, Granny’”

Sleeping pill or not, that’s the last time The Pastor will be responsible for the tooth fairy duties.


7 comments:

Anonymous said...

That is a WOW story that will never be forgotten.

cuz

Anonymous said...

That is an absolutely wonderful story...you made me laugh at my computer screen first thing in the morning!! Thank you for sharing, Cari!

cam

Anonymous said...

Cari, this is a winner! You must send this one in to Reader's Digest! You could earn enough to augment the Tooth Fairy's inflated prices! :-) Blessings...PD in CO

Kelly H-Y said...

OH MY GOODNESS ... that is an AWESOME story! You can't make this stuff up!!!

CariJ said...

Ha! I wish I could make this stuff up. I'd write a novel full of stories just like it. Well maybe PD is right...if I sell it at least I can pay back the piggy bank and maybe pocket a little. Thanks for reading!!

Anonymous said...

Okay, that was too funny. See, though, when you have five kids, you start to learn the little tricks. For instance, when Benjamin lost a tooth and Leslie and I forgot to Tooth-Fairy-itize the situation, when he came in the next morning all sad I simply covered my surprised facial expression (YIKES - HOW COULD WE FORGET?) with a yawn, and said I'd help him look in a minute. Then, when he had wandered off, I got three quarters -- we're much cheaper than you, but of course, we have 80 more teeth to pay for than you do -- and stuck them between my fingers, then put that hand in my pocket. When I got to his room, I told him to check the bottom of the bed while I deftly removed the hand from my pocket, stuck it under his pillow, rustled around a little until he heard the coins jingle, then lifted the pillow to his utter delight showing three shiny coins. Problem solved! "You'll have to look harder next time, buddy!" I stated in a fatherly tone. Oh, remind me sometime and I'll tell you about my Easter egg basket hiding trick on Easter morning... :-)
-Todd D. in Calhan, CO

CariJ said...

Todd, well I didn't want to admit this to everyone, but since you brought it up....I've already had to do the "Hey, you better look under your bed" and then slip the money under the pillow thing. I'd love to hear the Easter basket story, but I seem to have a scary childhood memory involving your family and chocolate covered raisins on Easter. I'm not sure I can take much more. :-)

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