This tooth fairy thing, it's driving me crazy.
First of all, in a house full of kids, you need to have a stack of small bills at the ready, because you just never know when someone is going to lose a tooth in the middle of dinner.
And then there's the amount: there ought to be some sort of international law, sort of like the Geneva Convention, mandating precisely how much is to be given per tooth, broken down by tooth type (more for a molar?). My kids are constantly asking why little Johnny got twice as much as they did when he lost a tooth. It doesn't seem fair, they reason, for the tooth fairy to give some of the kids so much money - especially when those kids already seem to have lots of ready cash to spend on chewing gum and popsicles. How do I explain this cold-hearted cruelty on the part of the Tooth Fairy? There's just no easy answer. And then again, why does she leave dollars for some kids and dinars for others? Is there some sort of tooth fairy conversion rate, set against international banking standards somehow? Because every kid knows $1 does not equal 1JD.
And did you know that the tooth fairy doesn't even come in some countries?
Yes, well, apparently she doesn't have time for kids in third world countries. Who knew?
As we were packing for the Dead Sea last week, Aidan lost another tooth. He decided to bring it with him, figuring the tooth fairy could find him there. He hid it carefully under his hotel pillow that night. But the tooth fairy forgot to come. I'm guessing she was hanging out late at the hotel spa and just plain forgot, but who knows? Her ways are mysterious, indeed.
The next night, back at home, Aidan put his tooth under his pillow for a second time. I know, because I asked him to show me where it was. Good thing I did, too, because he'd hidden it carefully between the pillows - it's a wonder the tooth fairy was able to find it in the dark later that night.
But she did find it, and she put 1 JD in there when she snuck in - way past her bedtime - to take his tooth.
The next morning, the tooth fairy went to work. Oops, I mean, I went to work. Who knows what the tooth fairy did? Maybe she took a nap. She must've been tired after waiting up half the night for Aidan to go to sleep. You gotta feel sorry for that poor tooth fairy.
When I got home from work that afternoon, I asked Aidan how much the tooth fairy gave him.
"Nothing," he told me. "She took the tooth, but she didn't leave any money."
I was astonished. Of course she left him money. Of this, I had no doubt. So we went into his room and started digging around under pillows and behind headboards, looking for the loot.
All of this searching attracted the attention of our nanny, Maryann. She looked a bit confused when I told her we couldn't find the money that the tooth fairy had left under his pillow. Before she could ask who in the heck the tooth fairy was, I told Aidan we'd look later, after we got home from the pool. I grabbed the towels and we all fled the house, leaving Maryann in the doorway, still scratching her head in confusion.
We swam; we splashed; we forgot all about the trauma of the missing treasure. Until, that is, my phone buzzed, indicating a new text message.
It was from Maryann, and it read "Miss Donna, I looked all over and I found 1 JD under the table by his bed. But I never could find the tooth."
One of these days, when the kids are back in school, I'm going to have to explain the tooth fairy to Maryann.