Last night, Eion lost a tooth. It is only his second and he was almost as excited as the first time around. Being a pathologically bad Tooth Fairy, I tried to convince E to leave it in the kitchen. "Really," I assured him, "the Tooth Fairy will appreciate not having to climb the stairs." But no, seeing as she could fly, he was not worried about that. And since we could not locate the Tooth Fairy pillow which generally saves me from rooting around under my children's pillows while trying not to wake them, he was insistent that it had to go under his actual pillow.
I managed to convince him that he should leave it on his dresser so it didn't accidentally get lost. After I kissed him goodnight, I immediately put four quarters next to my toothbrush so as not to neglect my duties.
I got to thinking, who made this crap up? If I had to go back and change one thing I've done as a parent, it would be getting involved in these shenanigans at all. When the kids lost a tooth, just pay them outright and throw the tooth into the woods so it can go back to the earth.
Alas, it is too late for such a (brilliant) decision and I was stuck feeling around in the dark for a tiny tooth.
Today, E came down the stairs and told me, "YOU are the Tooth Fairy!"
Me: Whatever gave you that idea?
E: Maggie told me.
Me: So next time can we just leave the tooth in the kitchen?
E: Will I still get a dollar?
Me: If I don't have to remember to go get your tooth, you bet.
And that friends, is the door closing on one of the more moronic chapters of parenthood.