Oh, crap.
Soph’s bleeding but happy. She’s managed to wiggle another tooth loose.
This is one of those times when it would really be nice to have a partner in Tooth Fairy crime.
I contemplated what to do. Was this a sign? Is it time to tell her?
No cash in the house, that I know of.
I go to her room after mulling this over a bit.
She sits at her desk, composing a letter to the Tooth Fairy (including a line for the Tooth Fairy’s signature). Plans for an honest, if painful, discussion go out the window as I watch my firstborn happily crafting a little plastic showcase for her tooth from an empty earring box.
I exit her room, leave her to her cheerful work.
I attempt nonchalance in my room as I quietly dig through four old purses. Thirty-seven cents. This does not bode well for the Tooth Fairy, as the Tooth Fairy has been inconsistent at best with her sums, and the last tooth was worth an even $5.
I cannot find Hannah’s piggy bank in the dark.
We have spent over $200 today on school clothes and shoes and bathing suits. This is not a good day for the tooth fairy, but it is a good day for Sophie.
She HAD to wiggle it out tonight. Crap crap crap.
I knew I should have gotten cash back at Target.
I considered waiting until 1am and driving to the ATM, could probably make it there and back in five minutes, but that felt dodgy.
I considered calling Mom, but she’s having a rough day.
I considered texting D and asking him to drop off a $5 bill, slip it in the mailbox, a drive-and-drop Tooth Fairy. But we no longer work together like this. It makes me sad. I don’t know when to turn to him, when to leave it well enough alone. Most of the time, I’m better off on my own.
I find a purple ceramic bowl with odds and ends in it. Three dollars, in quarters.
It will have to do.
It will all have to do, for now.
Whew. Close one.
Comments on this entry are closed.