Well, I’ve done it again.
Caleb lost another tooth yesterday. He excitedly put it in a Ziploc bag and tucked it under his pillow last night. I had full intentions of sneaking into his room after he was asleep to retrieve the tooth and leave a couple of bucks. But in between doing dishes and folding the laundry, I forgot. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.
This morning, I went into his room to wake him up. His little eyes popped open quickly and his hand immediately went under his pillow. My heart sank. I had forgotten. Again.
He sighed, a little sad, but mostly ticked off. “Why doesn’t the tooth fairy ever come to get my teeth?” he asked.
I scrambled for an answer. “Well, maybe she tried to but couldn’t reach your bed because of all these toys cluttering your floor,” I said, eyeing the Legos and Lincoln Logs carpeting the room. I know. That’s a cheap shot. But still.
He rolled his eyes at my ignorance. “Mom, she’s a FAIRY. She flies. She doesn’t walk.”
Dang. Outwitted by a seven-year-old. It’s a familiar feeling.
“Well, maybe she had too many kids to visit last night and didn’t get around to our house,” I speculated.
He didn’t even bother to grace that idea with an answer. And he was in a foul mood the rest of the morning as he got ready for school.
I’m going to have to make up for it tonight. He’ll probably get an Abraham Lincoln instead of a couple of George Washingtons. My failings are costing me.
Hopefully, he’ll forgive the tooth fairy and give her another shot next time. By the looks of that bottom left incisor, she’ll get a second chance before the week’s out.
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