We pretty much suck as parents.
Last night my son's second tooth fell out.
He placed it carefully in an envelope
with the following words painstakingly written on the outside;
"To the tooth faree frum me."
We tucked it under his pillow.
And he flopped down on it, intoxicated by the idea of new found riches.
Seven AM rolls around.
I nudge my wife,
"For the love of God woman! We didn't put any money under his pillow!"
She scrambles up, grabs a dollar, and sneaks into his room.
He is sitting up, staring at the forgotten envelope.
My wife slides the dollar under his pillow while he moans.
My son then joins me in bed and I immediately begin a complete and total
re-envisioning of how the tooth fairy operates.
"The envelope must not have been under the pillow and she got confused."
"Maybe that half-eaten granola bar stuck to your sheets freaked her out."
"You rolled over and scared her?"
"She doesn't take teeth from kids who don't brush long enough?"
My wife asks him if he really looked under his pillow good.
Of course he didn't, he can't find his shoes when they are on his feet.
He runs back and gropes about until he finds the tardy bill.
As he is doing this, I tear a little hole in his envelope
and extract the corn nibblet that is his tooth.
I ask him if he is sure the tooth is still in the envelope.
He tears it open to reveal...nothing.
The tooth fairy obviously was so weighed down by her tooth-collecting last night
she had to leave the envelope and just take the tooth.
All is right in make believe child gifting character land.
Then he says, "hey, last time she gave me five bucks, why only a dollar?"
Somewhere, a small fairy sprinkles fairy dust and cackles at my fate.