You know who I don’t like? Tom Brady, Francisco Cabrera and the Tooth Fairy. That’s right the Tooth Fairy. She talks a good game but constantly over promises and under delivers. She’s like the Nancy Pelosi of mystical childhood characters.
Santa Claus? Reliable. Same day every year, clear expectations and responsibilties for children and parents. The Easter Bunny? Dependable. Sure the day he shows up changes every year but you have a calendar to let you know when that is. That lessens the chance of parent screw ups. Then again, nobody really believes in the Easter Bunny anyway.
The Tooth Fairy? Fickle. Unpredictable. Inconsistent policies and regulations. She’s leaving one kid 50 cents for a tooth while leaving a different a kid a dollar. There is no system in place. No infrastructure on which parents can rely.
Frankly, I’ve just about had enough.
Monday at school, Kinsey lost a tooth. She brings it home in a tiny little plastic pink chest. She shows Mom and I the tooth, carefully places it under her pillow, gleefully anticipating the Tooth Fairy’s visit – hoping for a “paper dollar” instead of just “two stinky quarters.”
Well, the damn Tooth Fairy stiffed us. Totally didn’t show up. Who does that? It’s her only job. I mean its not like she has a second gig somewhere. What kind of demand is there for a 4 inch winged fairy? It wasn’t misunderstanding either. You can’t really misinterpret why a tiny pink tooth chest is present.
Tuesday morning, I wake up the girls and start getting out their clothes. I turn around to see Kinsey’s feet sticking out from under her bed.
“Kinz, what the heck are you doing?”
“My tooth is gone but there isn’t any money. I think the Tooth Fairy came but I must of pushed the money onto the floor while I was sleeping.”
You know that feeling you get when you’ve so completely blown something that there is no hope for recovery? Neil O’Donnell in Super Bowl XXX comes to mind.
I drop my head in shame. We forgot about the damn tooth.
You’re thinking, c’mon man, that’s no big deal. You can recover from this.
Really? You think so huh?
Well, what if you’d already done the exact same thing at least three times over the last couple years to the same daughter?
On top of that, what if you’ve not only blown it at least three times over the last couple years with the same daughter but also on Monday night of this week…and then blew it on Tuesday night?
Yup. We did. Totally forgot about it again. Two days in a row.
The Tooth Fairy’s approval ratings are staggering low in our house among the 7-10 age demographic.
I tried to recover the best I could. Mom even used the distract and redirect strategy by telling Kinsey she could have a friend over Friday for a sleep over. Anyway, after Mom took the girls to school on Wednesday morning, I grabbed the tooth and a dollar bill, I left the tiny pink chest open and placed it on top of the dollar. I smirk to myself. Why? Because I just took it upon myself to redefine Tooth Fairy lore. By leaving the dollar, I’ve created the impression that the Tooth Fairy can actually come during the day.
But listen, if she’s not going to at least give us a head’s up every now and then, or at the very least a reminder call, we no longer have any regard for her reputation. And we’re extending her work hours.
Kinsey gets home Wednesday afternoon, walks into her room and then, completely exasperated, comes back down the stairs.
“Mom and Dad! My tooth is missing. I left it in the chest and now its gone!”
Mom is unaware of my actions earlier so she’s just as perplexed.
The three of us walk up the stairs into Kinsey’s room. The dollar is sitting there. Neither of them notices. So I walk over…
“Dad, the tooth was right here and now it’s gone. GONE!”
“Um…yeah…because that dollar is there instead.”
“Oh…wait! The Tooth Fairy came while I was at school! I didn’t even know she could do that! Awesome! And it’s a whole dollar. That’s more than Riley gets! Woo Hoo!
So file this away when the Tooth Fairy slacks off at your house.