How do you do it all? I’m asked that question quite a bit, rhetorically I think, but I was really asked that yesterday and here’s my answer. Ready?
I don’t do it all. I mess it all up and call it intentional living.
Alex lost a tooth a few days ago. I have a “thing” with teeth. As in, I don’t like looking at them in their “removed from your mouth” state. Why? Growing up, I was told that dreaming of lost teeth meant death. Once that was firmly planted into the dark corners of my very creative and often paranoid mind, I had nightmares. Nightmares consisting of stretched gums over bones protruding like Pinocchio’s nose with teeth dangling from them. *shivers*
Quite like Ace Ventura’s fear of bats. Just imagine a cave full of teeth – and this would be my reaction.
Back to Alex’s teeth. I’m the tooth fairy. The tooth fairy is my snarky alter ego. I have to have some fun, right? Last time Alex lost a tooth, I conveniently put the traumatic event behind me the moment he told me. Alex knows of my irrational hatred for these things.
Day 1: No money left under the pillow
My excuse: It was Sunday and the Fairy banks were closed. “What about ATMs?” They’re not that advanced in fairy land.
Day 2: No money left under the pillow (at which point I kick myself)
My excuse: We just moved and she also hasn’t synced her GPS to find us in the new place.
Day 3: Money left under the pillow, with a note from said Fairy in the scrolliest (is that a word) handwriting I could find on my favorite stationary
My reason: Fairies are known for hijinx and we needed written proof that Mommy’s excuses were reasons. I added a P.S. Sorry for using your mother’s favorite stationary.
Now that, set the tone. The Tooth Fairy and I had a beef. A beef that has continued for a year, and was added to this week.
Why does this kid keep losing his teeth on Sunday’s?! He came to me, very proud and more excited than anything knowing he was about to gross me out with that hole in his mouth. I shut my eyes and begged him to put it in a napkin, fold it up and firmly place it in a plastic bag for that no-good-thief-of-stationary fairy.
Day 1: No money left under the pillow
My excuse: I refuse to talk to her. She stole my stuff and didn’t apologize. She did in that letter, whatever. Semantics. I just forgot.
Day 2: No money left under the pillow
My excuse: You’re sleeping in the wrong room, Alex. She doesn’t know your camping out in my room while Daddy is traveling.
Day 3: Money under the pillow
My reason: I gotta get that tooth out of my room before the nightmares come.
I ask him if the Tooth Fairy came to visit and he searched under his pillow and found 8 quarters. He was relieved that the Tooth Fairy found him and all was well. He did share that she mistakenly left a dollar more than she should have. His tooth cracked in two pieces, after it came out. What? I can’t have her be the perfect one! She’s out a dollar! Alex is out a dollar. Crap.
Here’s the rest of the story. Last night, after I settled in for some reading, I turned on this knock-you-out-sleep app that I pull out when I have to punch myself into oblivion. Just as I am about to drift, I catapult out of bed with visions of cracked teeth and morbid death. I have to get money into that plastic bag of death under my kid’s head.
I never have cash. EVER. “Think, Cristina. Think!” I talk to myself all the time too. I had to do the worst thing possible (according to the radio host I listened to this morning). I walked into Alex’s room and took 8 quarters from his piggy bank. I’ll pay it back in Pokemon cards and Minecraft mods.
I can still feel those little pebble teeth between my fingers – I took them out with, what else? A sock over my hand. Who’s going to go all the way downstairs, in the dark to root around in a junk drawer (I have 4) for a more appropriate shield from Alex’s death-teeth? You?!
See? I don’t do it all. There’s no way. I have to fall off in some areas. That’s human. That’s real. In fact, I mess it up, all the time, but at least it keeps life interesting – and more importantly me laughing at myself.
And, yes. I threw out the socks.
Have any creative responses to your snarky Tooth Fairy? How do you mess up and keep it interesting?