I made the job of Toothfairy for my mother a rather easy one. I didn’t start loosing my teeth until the 5th grade. In fact, I had to endure the humiliation of having two front teeth missing during the annual class photos.
I attempted to throw people off by wearing a snug bright purple sweater dress, to show off the fact that I was the proud owner of my first training bra.
Eleven year old angst. Perhaps I’m still bitter about the cruel deck of cards dealt to me in the form of freckles, stringy hair, bird legs, and missing teeth.
But I’m over it now.
By the time I started loosing teeth, I knew all about the tooth fairy. Saving my mother valuable dollar bills. I also knew the sordid truth about Santa Claus and sex. (Separate issues, both revealed to me in the same run on paragraph by my best friend.)
I’ve carried on here about my escapades as Chief Toothfairy to my children. Emme’s loss of teeth have provided me with ample blog fodder. What with her aversion to blood loss and all.
But it seems her younger sister may give her a run for her money.
Cailey is the sister that refuses to part with ANYTHING. Recently when a sibling tattled that the mommy had thrown away a portion of a blue Polly Pocket ensemble because it lay under the kitchen table for THREE DAYS, you would have thought I had murdered her. I sensed this from all the wailing, carrying on, and the throwing of herself down on the ground as she writhed in pain.
Cailey, it seems, doesn’t want to part with her teeth either. She lost one front tooth because it simply fell out of her head mid-sentence.
She reluctantly placed it under her pillow for collection, yet still quizzes me as to its actual location.
The other front tooth is now loose, and she refuses to get it out. This has gone on for two months. It is so loose that it has moved to the center of her mouth. And there is a great deal of space on either side, giving her the appearance of a Jack-o-lantern.
I’m not kidding, it flails around whenever she talks, and sometimes it turns completely sideways. A little unnerving if I’m attempting a serious conversation with her.
But she won’t let me touch it. Because she wants to “keep” it. I’ve assured her that if she lets me get it out, she can put it in a jar by her bed and I will personally guarantee that the toothfairy will leave it the heck alone.
She didn’t bite.
The other night while Fiddledaddy was pumping gas, and we were all stationed in the van waiting, Cailey let out a blood curdling scream that made everyone in the gas station turn to see who was dying.
Cailey does not possess that filter necessary to avoid a spectacle while out in public.
Fiddledaddy nearly shot gas into the air as he jumped a good 10 feet.
Cailey had simply bitten into a crunchy snack I had thoughtfully provided for her, causing her tooth to bleed. Quite a lot. But still, it hung on.
I just went to check on her and she’s sleeping with her mouth open.
Oh yes, I’m thinking about it. Sometimes the Toothfairy has to be proactive. Kind of like the impatient vulture that’s just gonna kill something and be done with it.
This Toothfairy has a dollar in her pocket that’s just burning a hole. The only thing holding me back is that she bites. And I’m fond of my fingers.
Motherhood. It ain’t for sissies.