I woke up, at 6:15am, completely aware that I failed at my first attempt at being the tooth fairy.
My eyes literately blew open at the sound of my alarm clock. It wakes me every day, at the same time, with one single word – “Moooooommm-mmmmaaaaaa”. If my daughter wasn’t already awake, she would be now.
I jumped out of bed, trying not to let the little guy know I was up, other wise he would up the morning anty to get me in there. I don’t think I took a breath until I saw his sister was still sleeping.
I crept down the stairs and began manically looking in my wallet for change or a loose bill. Nothing.
I checked the pants my husband wore the day before. I always find at least enough to buy myself a cup of coffee when I’m doing laundry. Finders keepers I always say. Not this time. I think he’s on to me.
I start shuffeling papers, looking for something on the counter. I managed to pull together fifteen cents. How sad.
I’m desperate at this point. I check the bottom of my purse, the “junk” basket in the hallway and even coat pockets. It’s hard times people.
Now, the one year old is singing at the top of his lungs, in his happy morning voice, and I’m mentally preparing to defend that poor excuse of a tooth fairy…and then I see it.
The little guy’s Easter basket is on the counter. It’s the one from Nana and Papa’s house. They always stash cash in the plastic eggs. God love them.
I was torn between absolute joy, that I could possibly salvage my five year old’s belief in things that are magical, and a lifetime’s worth of guilt for robbing the little guy in order to do it. In the end, I was totally high-fiving myself for pulling this one off.
I dash up stairs and quietly stick my head in the kid’s room. Not only is she still sleeping, but her head is completely off the pillow. Score!
I reach under the pillow, grab the envelope with the tooth inside with one hand and slide the four quarters under with the other.
I stood there and watched my daughter for a few seconds, who I can’t believe I’m already trading teeth for cash with, as she started to move around in her bed, waking up. She rolled over and opened her eyes. Her beautiful smile, short one tooth now, made this morning’s disgraceful race for cash, absolutely worth it.
She looked at me, slightly confused as to why I was staring at her. Then it clicked in her head and she sat straight up in the bed.
“Momma, did the tooth fairy come?”
“I don’t know baby, look and see.”
She flips the pillow over and sees the four shiny quarters underneath. At first, there was joy. But then, my lovely, always looking to sharpen the deal daughter asked, “Momma, I’ll get five quarters when I lose my next tooth, right?”
Have you ever had to lie to your kid because you failed miserably at following through with one of the many childhood traditions? Do you think I’m going to hell or would you call this a parental success?