Stoopid Tooth Fairy

Last week, my 8-year-old son lost another tooth. My husband, affectionately and appropriately referred to as #HusbandWTF on social media, put the kid to bed that night with nary a reminder of said lost tooth. I didn’t add it to my to-do list either, therefore IT DID NOT EXIST, and naturally I forgot to play Tooth Fairy…

The next morning, I overheard my daughters asking big brother how much money he found under his pillow. The following scene ensued:

At the mention of “under his pillow,” I sprint from my spot in the kitchen where I had been making breakfast, shove past three small humans already en route to check the pillow/cash situation, and launch myself onto my son’s bed. In one fell swoop, I yank the sheets and comforter to the floor, swipe the plastic baggie o’ tooth from underneath the pillow, and hastily shove the bag down my PJ pants.

It is important to note: the corners of a Ziplock bag are actually very sharp, and that’s all I’m gonna say about that. Also: maybe you’re wondering why I opted for down-the-pants as opposed to the universal Mom hiding spot, in-the-bra? I was still rocking my PJs, sans bra. So there ya go.

Immediately, all three kids appear in the doorway and their faces are like WTF Mom?! And for good reason. I’ve just completely ransacked my son’s bed, destroying the very place he had come to explore and hopefully discover his tooth loot. Apparently I had a plan this whole time (who knew?!) and I casually explain it’s laundry day and I’m washing his bedding.

I’m very impressed with myself at this point.

Good news: they buy it! With a shrug of their nonchalant shoulders, they brush past me to check the bed for evidence of the Tooth Fairy’s visit and the plastic baggie continues to jab me in the pubic bone.

“There’s no money! Did the tooth fairy forget about me?!!!!” My son is on the verge of tears, so I assure him I must’ve knocked the cash behind the bed when I stripped his sheets.

He now hates my guts. I have ruined his life. We push on.

Buying myself precious time, I suggest everyone go brush their teeth while I keep searching for the money. As soon as the room clears out, I morph into a gazelle and fly down the stairs three steps at a time in hot pursuit of my purse.

Where I find zero cash. Of course.

I fly back up the stairs where I recall seeing two dollars on my 6-year-old daughter’s dresser. I STEAL IT. I shove it down my pants where the plastic baggie has shifted and is now slicing my upper thigh.

VOICES.

The kids are done brushing.

I army crawl back into my son’s room where he returns to dress for school, eyeballing me intently. Breathing heavy, I remove pillow cases from pillows and the second he breaks eye contact, I deftly retrieve what used to be my daughter’s allowance and OMG HERE’S YOUR TOOTH FAIRY MONEY! I FOUND IT! BEST DAY EVER! LOOK AT ME FIXING EVERYTHING! YAY!

The children erupt into applause because I’ve saved the day! My son hugs and thanks me! My girls are in awe, no doubt taking notes on how to Mom like me in the future. I AM A ROCK STAR. No one is the wiser, their innocence is in tact, and all is well with the world.

Lies.

My son’s like, “Two dollars? That’s it?!” and then our dog, also overcome with disappointment, poops in the hallway.

Dear Kids,

Since two of you can read now, I felt the need to add this disclaimer JUST IN CASE. Although at this point in your technological endeavors (chunk those words and sound them out), I doubt you’ll come across this post or my blog any time soon. Anyway, yes, Mommy and Daddy are the Tooth Fairy. I hope after reading this, you’re not upset, but instead appreciative of the great lengths we went to in order to keep the magic alive for you guys. Or not. Whatever. We love you.

You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit–some kids don’t even get two dollars!!,
Mom & Dad