If you follow this blog, you might know that my older son and his six-year-old Girl Next Door have quite a thing for each other.
They’re in the same class at school, and yesterday, they decided it would be fun to lose milk teeth on the same day.
Son1’s wobbly tooth had been threatening to fall out for about a month, but the sight of red blood petrifies him, so he was ultra careful not to dislodge the tooth, until it finally fell out of its own accord in French class. Girl Next Door is braver: in order to lose her slightly-wobbly pearly white on the same day as her best friend, she worked on it for hours.
Her efforts to forcibly remove her tooth were successful and the pair apparently did a little song and dance in class together, anticipating that the tooth fairy would descend on our street after bedtime.
But the wee pixie must have been having a rough night – might even have been a US government employee and not working – because her visit to our compound didn’t quite go to plan.
8.30pm, Our house
After nearly 14 hours on the go, I’m bribing the boys, knackered-mum-style, to settle down and go to sleep. “Get to bed – if you don’t, the tooth fairy won’t come.” Cue more wailing from my youngest, who always wants me to stay two-going-on-20 more minutes.
They finally go to sleep and I creep back in, money in hand and practically on tippy-toe in my attempt to not make a sound (the finish line – the end-of-the-day sit down – is in sight, hallelujah!).
I shove the crumpled note under Son1’s pillow, and swipe the tissue-wrapped tooth, to store in my silver keepsakes box (like I’m some kind of tribal hunter, collecting trophy teeth for necklaces). But I’m tired, it’s the sixth tooth he’s lost, and I just want to sit down. In my haste, I’ve tucked the note under the corner of the pillow, rather than safely ensconced deeper in.
The next morning, 6.10am
I’m roused from a deep slumber by Son1, who’s standing by the side of the bed looking cross. “Mum, the tooth fairy TOOK my tooth and left NO money!” (Bad-ass fairy). “Oh dear,” I muster, sleepily. “Try the floor, I’m sure it’s there somewhere.”
6.30am, Next door
Girl Next Door comes down the stairs hiding something behind her back and excitedly says: “Mom, guess what the Tooth Fairy brought me?!!” It’s then that her mom realises what she’s forgotten to do. Girl Next Door thrusts her arms out from behind her back and, her excitement dissolving into anger, shouts: “NOTHING!!!!! She brought me NOTHING!”
We did eventually find the note in the boys’ bedroom, and I’m quite sure the tardy tooth fairy will fully compensate Girl Next Door tonight, but something tells me our lovebirds won’t be so quick to lose/pull teeth in unison again.
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