The Tooth Fairy’s dead.
I killed her. And if you ask me, the bitch had it comin’.
She was a total slacker, missing deadlines, losing teeth, and wreaking emotional havoc on the young minds of my children. And she was a constant disappointment, sometimes taking two or three nights to remember a tooth now crusty and awaiting collection.
When she did her job, she didn’t even do it well - sometimes waking kids out of their precious slumber as her hand jostled about under the pillow digging for ivory gold.
Yes. It was time for her to go.
Her end wasn’t pre-mediated. But at the breakfast table my oldest daughter (who knows the flakey fairy’s true identity) held the tooth she had lost the day before aloft and glared at me with a half smirk saying “Um…Mom? The TOOTH FAIRY forgot my dollar AGAIN! EVEN THOUGH I SPECIFICALLY TOLD the TOOTH FAIRY NOT to forget!”
The twins, now almost 8, looked back and forth from her glaring smirky face to my guilty mug and finally made the connection.
“The Tooth fairy must have been REALLY tired last night.” I IMPLIED to my oldest who was about to blow the whole lid off the fairy thing.
Ben piped in, “Hey! You’re really tired too, Mommy.” I tried to not engage his line of thinking.
“Maybe she’s just really busy with work.”
“You’re really busy with work, too!” Crap. He was on a roll. There’s no stopping Ben when he’s on a roll…
Izzy looked wide-eyed from him to me holding in laughter at his comparisons.
I said, “Maybe she’s getting OLD and just doesn’t remember the way she used to.”
“Mommy! YOU’RE getting old and don’t remember stuff either!”
That was it. She burst into laughter. Ben looked from her to me and said
“MOMMY! I think YOU’RE the TOOTH FAIRY!”
Livi, looked up from her bowl of chocolate cheerios – finally interested in the conversation. She stared at me and said “WHAAAAAATTT???!!”
I gave Izzy the evil eye for having a hand in spoiling it for her brother and sister. She put her hand over her mouth to smother a laugh and cover her smile.
Ben continued to look at me. Accusingly. “Are you the tooth fairy?”
It was a moment of truth. I could grab it and be completely honest with my kids. What a mom! But instead, I chose to ignore it. I tried to change the subject.
“Here. Your lunches are done. Take them.”
“Mommy? Are you the tooth fairy?”
“That reminds me, did you brush your teeth?”
“You are, aren’t you.” He was relentless.
“Go get your jacket.”
Izzy shouted from the other room, “SHE IS NOT THE TOOTH FAIRY! BUT SHE KNOWS HER REALLY WELL!”
Ben didn’t buy it. “Mommy? Tell me the truth.”
“Yes, Ben. I am the tooth fairy.”
I waited for tears. Izzy had cried hysterically when she found out a few years ago.
“I knew it.” He smiled, grabbed his lunch and skipped off to get his jacket.
No crying. No shock. No mourning. Just a smile and pride at having made the connection. Livi, equally unmoved, went back to eating her Cheerios.
“You’re not too sad?”
“That I’m the tooth fairy?”
“Nope. So, can you just give us the money now?”
Maybe I’ll miss that flakey fairy after all.