Emme lost another tooth. If she keeps losing teeth at this rate, I’m going to have to start feeding her a steady diet of porridge and take out a loan.
After a week of watching this snaggled tooth, so loose that it hung out of her mouth, and listening to much wailing and gnashing of other baby teeth, she finally yanked the thing out of her head. We all offered to do it for her. The list included parents, cousins, and a couple of aunts. Just so the complaining might stop. Cailey especially was eager to give it a try. “Emme, just let ME do it!” she a little too gleefully hounded. Ad nauseum, as she followed her sister around each day. Hoping above all hopes that her big sister would change her mind, and her mother would grant her the use of pliers.
No such luck.
The adult tooth was impatient, waiting for the baby tooth to fall out. So, it’s my theory that Adult Tooth just shoved Baby Tooth out of Emme’s mouth, as it is already halfway up. We placed the tiny tooth in a sandwich baggy and I wrote Emme’s name and the date on the outside. I expect to have many such baggies before the three children reach puberty. This is a wonderfully clever way I’ve found to keep track of the teeth, and idea that I got from Meritt quite a while back.
After the extraction or murder (depending on how you look at it), Emme sat down to pencil a letter to the Toothfairy. We’re beginning to study Writing Composition, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The letter was two pages long. She had quite a lot to tell the Toothfairy, evidently. Mostly about the pain and suffering she endured waiting for the tooth to fall out. She took her two page letter and baggied tooth, and placed them under her pillow. To await the Toothfairy.
Who never came.
You see, the Toothfairy hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, and isn’t quite up on her game. It was another rough night with Jensen, and when I stumbled out of the master suite this morning, I remembered. Oh no. Emme was already up having her “coffee” with Fiddledaddy in the front reading room. Her “coffee” consists of whole milk in one of my favorite coffee mugs. This makes her feel very civilized and mature.
Maybe she forgot. I know. But a mommy can dream. I rifled through my purse and could only find a five spot and some change. I considered just using the five dollar bill, perhaps to alleviate some of the guilt, but reconsidered. This would be setting a precedence that I might never financially recover from. Do the math. Each kid has about 20 teeth to lose. Times three kids. I then raided Fiddledaddy’s cash stash and only came up with a five plus change. But I was able to put all the change together to make one dollar. I stuffed the coins into a sandwich baggy, labeled with her name and date, and quickly scribbled a note which cleverly said something like “Good job Emme! T.F.” And stealthily tiptoed into her room to make the exchange hoping she would think that she overlooked it.
Later I found out that she did indeed notice the absence of money under her pillow and sadly reported her findings to Fiddledaddy. He offered two explanations. “Probably the Toothfairy had a really rough night and couldn’t make it.” She looked at him doubtfully. So, then he added:
“Or the Toothfairy heard Jensen screaming and it scared her off.”
A more plausible reason for a 7 year old, I think. Thusly taking the heat off of the poor bedraggled toothfairy. But then, when Emme went to make her bed, she found her baggy of loose change and the note. Excitedly she came running out of her room. “She came, she came after all!”
No questions asked.
A tired tardy toothfairy is better than no toothfairy at all.