The Boy-Child lost another tooth a few days ago. I’m thinking that he’s about out of baby teeth to lose.
The last time he lost a tooth I forgot to notify the tooth fairy. Actually this happens quite often, don’t let me mislead you. When I woke him in the morning he pulled the tooth out from under his pillow and smiled his priceless poo-eating grin. He loves catching me in my many moments of failure. I demanded that he feign sleep. I ran to my wallet and returned with $2 at which point I proceeded to dance around his room, even on top of the bed, singing, “OOOOOHHH, maaaagic, fluttery-wings, fluttery-wings, MAAAAAAGIC.” I did a quick tooth-dollar switcharoo and exited. I immediately reentered the room and turned on the lights, again, to wake him. For days straight after that we would totally crack each other up with the words, “magic” and “fluttery wings.”
This time, not surprising, he just handed me the tooth in a baggie and asked for the money.
Me: (incredulously) What? You don’t believe in the tooth fairy anymore? (He hasn’t believed in any mythical being since, well, maybe in-utero. It’s not his nature.)
Me: What’d she ever do to you?
Boy-Child: (deadpan) She yells at me. She grounds me. And, she took away my ipod.
Me: Good point well made. 2 dollars sound good?
Boy-Child: Nice doing business with you.
Someone must take responsibility for this child’s personality and sense of humor…
Is this the face of an Evil Tooth Fairy? No, just a Maniac, with a menagerie…