Hey tooth fairy,
you’re letting Micah down by not being on top of things. One morning recently, he woke up early, checked under his pillow – to find – zip-locked right incisor, that had finally dropped from its mad dangle the night before, still there and zero money.
Ugh, come on now, fairy, our (newly buck-teethed) boy deserved his buck. We’re not asking for a five, though he has tried. Artie ended up jumping in for you, but that’s just not right and Micah caught on that something was fishy.
Finding his buck in full daylight, as I fluffed his pillow to make the bed, Micah narrowed his eyes in that telling way: He’s losing faith in you, girl. He’s starting to doubt that you exist. He even said: “I’m not sure there is a tooth fairy.”
I looked at him in complete shock. “Who’s telling you such things?”
“I think it was you.”
“I tell you such things?”
“No. You put the money there.”
“No way. It wasn’t me. Absolutely not. I leave that to the tooth fairy. It’s her job, not mine.” Since it was Artie who substituted for you, none of this was a lie.
Micah’s eyes remained narrow, nonetheless.
And mine narrowed, too, now. “So who’s telling you these things?”
“At school Owen said the same thing happened to him. The money came too late. It was his mom!”
Owen being our next-door neighbor helped me find a reasonable explanation for your tardiness.
“You know what, Micah, I think tons of kids are currently losing teeth and the fairy has a hard time keeping up. Our house and Owen’s must be at the end of her route. She didn’t make it before you woke. Don’t get up so early next time. That’s like me checking the mailbox at 2 when we know the mailman only makes it to our building by 3:30!”
Still that squint.
“She must have dropped it off while we were wrestling in the other room.”
Finally those eye muscles relax a little.
“Did you hear any buzzing?”
Micah shakes his head.
“Well, I don’t know if fairies buzz. But it was easy enough for her to get in through the broken screen.”
The hole in our screen at the head of his bed laid the matter to rest for now. It’s just the right size for the likes of you. And Micah doesn’t remember poking it himself when he was three.
The whole business made Micah want to write you a note. He was going to ask for another buck to make up for all the headache and doubt he endured that morning. Luckily, he didn’t want to deal with spelling (and give himself another headache). So for now you’re home free. But remember, he’s only lost eight teeth and he’s seven and a half. You better switch up your route or something, or else you’ll soon be doing all this hard work for another nonbeliever.
FYI, we’ll have to get that screen fixed before the mosquitoes start buzzing up to our sixth floor again. Sorry about any heavy lifting of screens you have to do come tooth #9 (unless of course we continue to be as on top of things regarding those screens as we’ve been the last 4 years)…
An, mom of Micah