Raising Literate Humans

I was the Tooth Fairy.

Isabelle was born with a natal tooth. By the time she was a month old, she had already visited the dentist twice to have it checked. It wasn’t wiggling so we decided not to have it pulled.

Have you ever seen a newborn baby with a tooth? It’s quite a site! Truthfully, It was the bane of my existence for quite awhile (i.e., nursing, teeth brushing). However, once her other teeth came in, I forgot about the natal tooth. Well, most of the time.

Five weeks ago, Isabelle discovered one of her teeth was wiggling. Guess which one it was? HER NATAL TOOTH! I was delighted and couldn’t wait for her to lose it.! All I could think was first-in, first-out!

But it wiggled and wobbled for weeks! By yesterday afternoon, it was hanging on by a thread. It looked gross. Isabelle claimed it hurt too. Therefore, I messaged my husband on the way home from the grocery store, requesting he find some gauze and assist Isabelle with extracting her tooth.

Once we got into the house, I collapsed from exhaustion (A heat wave + third trimester of pregnancy + grocery shopping are not a great combination!) on the couch. Isabelle proceeded to go upstairs to find my husband. There was some loud talking yelling. But after about five minutes, it got quiet. Next came the footsteps down the stairs. I opened my eyes and saw Isabelle holding a tiny white tooth in her hand. I was so elated it was FINALLY out — after over five and a half years — that I began clapping my hands and singing “Siman Tov u’Mazel Tov,” which is usually reserved for occasions like weddings and Bar Mitzvahs.

I asked my husband to bring a Ziploc bag over to the couch. Next, Isabelle placed her tooth inside and sealed the bag.

“Tape this to the outside of your door. The Tooth Fairy will come tonight and bring you some money while you sleep,” I said.

Isabelle ran to her craft table to find some tape.

“Don’t you have a pillow?” Marc asked.

“No,” I replied. “I don’t want to get caught going in there in the middle of the night to retrieve the tooth and put money under her pillow.”

“C’mon!” he said.

“I’m serious. I’m not getting caught. This Tooth Fairy,” I said pointing to myself, “doesn’t go past the bedroom door.”

Marc looked less than thrilled. However, I hadn’t bought a pillow for Isabelle’s teeth so he had no choice but to go along with my new (and I think improved!) way of doing the middle-of-the-night swap.

*****

A few hours after Isabelle fell asleep, I crafted a note from the Tooth Fairy to her. Just before midnight, I slowly peeled the plastic bag off of her door and affixed the letter from the Tooth Fairy, with the money, to her door. I placed her tooth baggie in her baby book and went to bed.

The tooth in the baggie.
Click on the image to read the Tooth Fairy’s letter.
Into the baby book goes the tooth.

 

*****

In the morning, I heard “What’s that on my door?” from down the hall. Marc went to her room and read her the note. Then, they peeled it off the door and brought it in to me. I read the note to Isabelle again and asked, “Are you going to save the money or spend it?”

First she said “save,” but a minute later she declared I’m going to buy a big Hershey bar with it at Chocolate World.”

“Whatever you’d like to do. Just put the money in a safe place.”

Isabelle ran back to her room to put her money away. That’s when Marc brought up the Tooth Fairy again.

“It needs to go under her pillow next time, not on her door,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because… what happens when she goes to school and the kids are talking about the Tooth Fairy? She’ll hear that their Tooth Fairies leave their money under their pillow. It’ll be weird if her Tooth Fairy leaves her money on her door.”

“I don’t care. But if you do, then you can be the Tooth Fairy. That means you’re going to have to accept responsibility for skulking in there at night, not waking her, and doing the exchange every single time. If you can commit to doing that for the next 20 teeth (or however many she has), then go for it. Otherwise, I’m doing the door.”

“I’ll do it,” he chuckled.

“What happens if she catches you?” I asked. “You don’t have wings. And you sure don’t look like the fairy on the letter.”

“I’ll just say ‘I was coming in to see if the Tooth Fairy visited you yet,'” he replied.

I shook my head. “If you want to do it that badly, then the job is all yours.”

My husband, the Tooth Fairy. Can’t wait to see how this turns out!

Head over to http://twowritingteachers.wordpress.com for more slices of life.
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