The first night The Tooth Fairy forgot, Jewel had mentioned it to me in passing sort of like: wow, The Tooth Fairy must be pretty busy or somethin', huh?
And I'm all yeah, lotsa kids must be losing their teeth or something. And then I kicked myself. And promptly forgot. Again.
So after the second night no cash, Jewel politely asked if she might write The Tooth Fairy a letter, part of which ran:
And all I am asking is that you please come pick my tooth up TONIGHT!!
I think the seven exclamation points in orange marker were a bit over the top, but hey, when you're eight years old and saving for a car to go to college in--yeah, she likes to plan ahead--you need your payments to be on time.
So when I stumbled out of bed on the third morning only to be greeted by a daughter biting back tears, the Tooth Fairy felt like a complete jerk. We headed downstairs where I started a pot of coffee because I can't do any thinking until caffeine has hit my system. I distracted the kids with Charlie and Lola on the TV and then snuck back upstairs, hiding two dollar bills behind my back.
Just before breakfast I said, all casual: "So, do you think the Tooth Fairy might have been running like waay late last night?"
Jewel, sitting down at the table replies, "No, she only works at night."
"I mean, are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"I don't know, I mean, maybe you should check again."
Sighing in resignation, she headed back upstairs. I served up the scrambled eggs (cottage cheese for Jewel) and English muffins with raspberry jam. Jewel reappeared in the kitchen, no smile, just a very matter-of-fact declaration of:
"Now I have fifty-two dollars."
Toward her car. A car, that we won't be purchasing for another like 20-30 years. But that's my first-born, she's a planner.
Unfortunately for her, she was born to a mother who would rather poke her eyes out than check items off a to-do list or adhere to a rigid schedule. I used to think this was a cute, quirky facet of my personality.
Now I realize it's cute like a splinter in the finger is cute. I may think I'm the cute little pregnant Tooth Fairy who is sometimes forgetful, but to my daughter I'm a royal pain in the finger, hindering her long-term goals.