Pages

Thursday, December 6, 2012

My first gig filling in as the Tooth-Fairy. She is not pleased.


Just in case any children are reading this: Yes, of COURSE the Tooth Fairy is real! Sometimes, just like you, she gets snotty boogery disgustingly sick from being around snotty boogery disgusting little kids and has to take a day off. That is what happened here. Now GO TO BED. Shouldn't you be in bed already? Shame on you for torturing your parents by staying up so late!

Now that that's out of the way... where were we? Ah yes- I can't explain why it is that the thought of loose bloody teeth dangling by a fleshy veiny whatever-the-hell-it-is thread gives me a full bodied case of the heebie-jeebies, but it does. So does people playing with piercings, or dinging around with bellybuttons.
I know, I'm weird- I don't deny that. The TOP of my list is wiggly teeth though. I can't even type it without the vision of it popping into my head and then he heebie starts to set in.

Don't give me that look, Jen.
I still love you even though your
movies bomb.
Almost as if I am living in a typical predictable plotline kind of movie (usually starring Jennifer Aniston. Sorry Jen!) it wasn't that long ago when I said aloud "Hm. Holden got his teeth early- I wonder when he'll start losing them?" and anyone with half a BRAIN could tell the way this little movie was going was into nasty loosetoothland.

For the sake of the story, let's pretend it was the very next morning (reality: probably a week) when Holden woke up complaining that his tooth was loose. Out of nowhere!
If there is one thing Thomas remembers in his forgetful man-brain (I have mom-brain, which also makes me forgetful, but of different things)- it is that there is no way in cold hell I am going to stick my finger into a pit of teeth, place it atop one, and wiggle it. NO!
Thomas is a man. He may not be the manliest of men, but he climbs on roofs and puts up Christmas lights, and he can hang things... and stuff.... So yeah, this tooth wiggling business was on him. And so it was done. And so it was true; the tooth was loose. I don't know HOW loose because let's be honest here, telling me might result in one of those old timey fainting spells women would have when their corset was pulled too tight- but to my horror the wiggly tooth was confirmed. That's all I needed to know
I don't wanna put him on blast or anything- but Thomas was noticeably skeeved out. I found this amusing.

This picture is making me stabby.
Want!
It was Saturday morning and for breakfast we were having cinnamon rolls. They were supposed to be those sinfully delicious orange rolls- if you haven't had them you're really missing out. Instead, the husband and his man brain accidentally bought cinnamon ones- but I digress.
This is not a tough breakfast food to eat. Relatively soft. Ooey gooey, even. Not orange, but still.

Holden takes one look at his roll and bursts into tears. He is afraid to eat itdue to loose toothage. I could feel the heebies overwhelming me, but I had to inform him that usually a loose tooth doesn't come out in the first day. Some *gag* take work.
He still refuses to eat the damn thing. We actually had to take a fork and a knife and cut the bitch up (the roll, not the kid. Sheesh.)
Finally after the tears were wiped and the ooey-gooey had likely turned into a sticky paste- Holden decided it would be okay to eat.

Fork in roll. Fork with roll to mouth. Roll in mouth. Chew. Chew. CRUNCH!
It's that crunch that you may never have heard before but you know EXACTLY what it is- tooth.

I'm pretty sure what came out of my mouth next made absolutely no sense, but somewhere in it I ordered the kid to spit his food out so that I could inspect it.
Right? As if those whole loose tooth nonsense wasn't bad enough, let's add in digging through chewed up food to FIND it- just as a kicker.

There it was, in its disgusting tiny white shallow rooted glory. The very first tooth he ever got was the very first one to fall right out of his mouth.

effing EW
Let me take a moment now to thank the Oral Gods that it didn't dangle.
Nothing about that statement sounds right.

This blog is not really about the fact that he lost his tooth- it's about the fact that it was now my responsibility to fill in for the sick (cough cough) Tooth Fairy in her time of need. Even though I'd thought about it all day- derpy me and derpy Thomas didn't actually think about HOW we were going to do this until it was time for bed.
You can't just put a tooth under a pillow and walk in, reach under, and snatch it out while your kid snoozes.
Well, I mean, I guess you can- but that doesn't sound easy and you risk waking your kid up in the process and THEN what?

We also didn't think about how we are not in fact fairies and therefore have big clunky feet and have to walk- and Holden's entire bedroom floor is covered in train tracks. Ones that went up and down and made bridges and spun around. It was basically a broken neck waiting to happen.

We looked and looked for something to put the tooth in. Thomas suggested a Crown Royal bag- yeah cause THAT'S appropriate- but we settled on this teeny little baby glove. I swear I don't know how we have this random shit floating around our house- but I suppose it can be helpful.

The whole thing got tied up with a hairtie, Holden snatched it, put it under his pillow, did the whole read a story tucking in BS and to sleep he went.

It wasn't until hours (and a couple of drinks) later that Thomas and I realized the obstacle course we were about to face.

Like this... if it were made from shards of broken
glass
So- not only did I (yeah, MY job) have to silently sneak into the kid's room, but  also reach under his pillow and find this tiny little baby glove containing a tiny tooth that is closed with a hair tie (that I thoughtlessly twisted about a dozen times)- get it out, untie the hair tie, grab that nasty little tooth, replace it with the gold coin (ballin'!) and then get back OUT of the room without dying. Or waking him up. Preferably both.




Here is what I can tell you about what happened in the dark in that room
1. My eyesight sucks.
2. My eyesight sucks even worse in the dark.
3. Thomas' "smartphone flashlight" can kiss my nightblindness's ass.
4. Stepping on geotracks in the dark is right about up there with legos
5. It's a good thing I never became a gymnast because I'd have blown it on the beam due to my complete lack of balance
6.  Touching a tiny tooth in the dark is a memory you cannot erase.
7. Things that are not usually loud are REALLY FUCKING LOUD when you're trying to be silent. Yeah, I'm talking to you- stupid little matchbox car.
9.  Next time I'm dressing in costume, and I do mean the WORKS. Worse than the Rock in that horrid Tooth Fairy movie. I'm going balls to the wall- because while I fully admit to refusing to enter a bathroom in the dark or leaving a limb hanging over the edge of the bed- what is MORE frightening is a kid stirring while you're reaching under their pillow trying to grab their very first lost tooth and nearly ruining the whole damn thing by seeing mommy or daddy's face looking like a kid getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Although, a cookie would totally be worth it.

And to think- this was just the first of many.
Hold me.


4 comments:

  1. I usually have Hill leave her tooth on the bar, because like Santa, the tooth fairy is in a hurry and it is much more convenient for her. Plus it is closer to the trash. No bedroom noise and if I were to get caught I could say I was getting a drink & noticed that the tooth fairy had stopped by.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I laughed at the end. I laughed until I had tears streaming. Now that you have experienced the "Hard Way" do it the easy way. Seriously. A matchbox, a tooth, a counter, LIGHTING!, and voila! toss the matchbox, leave whatever you leave, a tiny note and all done. Kid's happy, you didn't touch it and you might have some dignity to create chaos in other ways.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'm with you on the ickiness that is baby teeth. So much so, that my husband fills in for the tooth fairy when she's ill. I always assumed he threw them away. Alas! I was wrong. Very very wrong. I found at least 9 - (I didn't stutter) NINE baby teeth in one of my old jewelry boxes. I don't mean to out the hubs (well, yea - I do really) Mortification doesn't even begin to cover how I felt upon that little discovery. Ew, just ew.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I am pretty much guessing you did not save said tooth in a box for them to find when they are teenagers.....

    ReplyDelete