Since When Do Fairies Check Into Betty Ford?

The tooth fairy is going to be the death of me.

Honestly, all I hope for is that Kiddo #1 magically loses all her teeth in the next 34 minutes so that I never, ever have to deal with the wretched Tooth Fairy again.  Ok. Two wishes. The first one is that Kiddo #1 loses all her teeth so I never have to deal with the Tooth Fairy again, and the second one is that Kiddo #2's teeth grow like fingernails and we have to give him hunks of wood to file them down like a giant hamster, so that I can continue never having to deal with our Tooth Fairy ever again.  She, alone, is responsible for my inability to properly control my gamma-ray radiation issues.  

Plus, I think she's is a boozer.

Kiddo #1's first lost tooth was quite a momentous occasion  Her BFF in JK had lost her first tooth about a month prior; from that point until Kiddo #1 lost her first tooth, she all but completely stopped brushing her teeth. I'm sure I'm a bit responsible for that-- I'd instilled in her the fear that if she didn't brush her teeth they would fall out and she would never be able to eat her favourite foods again.  It was short-sighted, I'll admit, considering she was 3 and would ultimately lose all those baby teeth in the next 3 years, but I was fed up with begging her to brush her teeth day in and day out... and well, we've all been there.

This first lost tooth garnered phone calls to Grandma and Grandpa (both sets) as well as the creation of her very own tooth fairy pillow in which she could put her tooth.  We even wrote a letter to TF asking if she could just, this one time, NOT take the tooth, but please leave the money anyway.

The note back was terse, smelled of whiskey and was the beginning of our poor relationship.  It read: "Dear Kiddo #1.  If you want the cash, you trade the tooth. I don't negotiate with terrorists. TF."

Kiddo #1 was shocked that the Tooth Fairy was not going to negotiate (I left out the terrorists part when I read it to her because I didn't want to scare her, but Husband and I were both taken aback).  Kiddo #1 then relented and put the tooth back under her pillow for a second night.  

When the sun came up the next day, Kiddo #1 searched under her pillow.  Nothing!

It was like the Tooth Fairy had completely forgotten to come back and see about collecting the tooth. Forgotten completely.  Like she went to bed after watching Game of Thrones and started snoring immediately.

And understandably  Kiddo #1 was distraught!  

Kiddo#1: Momma! Momma! The Tooth Fairy must be mad!

Me: Huh? It's 6am. It's Saturday.

Kiddo #1:  Momma! The Tooth Fairy!

Me: (raw panic in my eyes realizing the Tooth Fairy had forgotten)  Oh I'm sure it's under there somewhere. 

Kiddo#1: No! I searched the tooth fairy pillow and under MY pillow and all over the place. It's nowhere. She didn't come back!

Me: (raw panic realizing that no one understands the ramifications of the lost tooth OR that the damned Tooth Fairy didn't come cuz she got wrapped up in some stupid show about dragons (And boobs! Good Lord there's a lot of nudity in that show!))  Oh! Well, uh, let me go to the bathroom and I'll, uh, help you, uh, look.  

I then snuck into my random bucket o'change and pulled out a twonie to "find" while searching for the loot all the while cursing that damned fairy.  Only, and here's where I'm starting to figure out our Tooth Fairy is kinda a jerk, when I "pulled it out from underneath the bed," the twonie was a quarter!

Damned Fairy magic! I can't even fix TF's mistakes; Tooth Fairy must've been watching, all irritated that we wanted the money AND the tooth, because poof, she changed the dollar coin into a quarter.

Only a liquor-soaked fairy would think that's funny in any way.  While Kiddo #1 faked enthusiasm, Husband was less kind. 

Husband:  Oh! Kiddo #1 how much money did you get?

Kiddo#1: A quarter.

Husband:  Seriously? A quarter for your first tooth?

Me: Like, yes. (rage o'meter level rising... rising...)

Husband: Geez. She's chintzy, eh?

Me: Like, I didn't see you... helping to find the lost money that the Tooth Fairy ALMOST forgot to put down last night after Game of Thrones.

Husband: Fair enough.  But you should tell her that nothing costs a quarter anymore.

I caught a glimpse of  her puking in the kids' toilet. The fairy dust was all black and reeked of cigarettes and as she lay her tiny head on the cool porcelain, mascara running down her face like a Monster High doll after a very rough prom night, I may have let the dog in to investigate.  I think it scared her straight for a while, because for the next three teeth Kiddo #1 lost, she got a loonie for each, and Husband woke up with sore ribs "because he was snoring." I'm sure it's unrelated, but I'd like to think there's a connection.

However, even after we submitted the terrible service to the Fairy Better Business Bureau, Tooth Fairy's unreliability is no better. Take last night.

Me: Oh wow! You lost a front tooth, Kiddo #1! That's incredible! You've lost so many teeth we'll have to feed you bubble tea because the giant straw fits in the hole! 

Kiddo #1: Yep! I can't WAIT to see what I get for this tooth!

Me: Why?

Kiddo #1: Well, when I lost a tooth at Grandma's, HER Tooth Fairy brought me five dollars. And Presley's Tooth Fairy brings her crafts and stuff.

Me: Yes. Of course she does.

Kiddo #1:  Yep!  So I'm hoping our Tooth Fairy gives me enough to get a My Little Pony!

Yes! Because losing a tooth is the equivalent to a frickin' birthday party gift. GAH!

So, when Kiddo #1 awoke (in our bed) the next morning and the first thing out of her mouth was "I need to see what the Tooth Fairy left me!" I, simultaneously with my mother's intuition, knew  there was nothing waiting for Kiddo #1 except her tooth. Again.

With a twitchy left eye, I scream-whispered, "Kiddo #1! You must go pee right now!"

Kiddo #1: I don't have to pee.

Me: YES YOU DO. GO PEE FIRST AND THEN WE'LL GO SEE IF THE TOOTH FAIRY CAME OR NOT. 

Kiddo #1: I'm not going pee. I'm going to check for money.

Me: You must pee! PEE NOW! THINK ABOUT NIAGARA FALLS!

Kiddo #1: I don't have to pee. Daddy, do I have to go pee?

Husband (from a slumber Rip Van Winkle would envy) Huh? How would I know?

Me: Husband! She must go pee right now! RIGHT NOW!

Husband: Why do you care? Just let her go look for the Tooth Fairy loot.

Me: (very twitchy eye, frothing at the mouth) WHAT?!?

Fortunately, Kiddo #1 didn't see me turn into the Incredible Hulk because when her father told her to go look for the Tooth Fairy money, money I knew WASN'T there, she scrambled off to her room in search of treasure.  

Me: Did YOU do the Tooth Fairy's job last night?

Husband: Why are you whisper-shouting and turning green and huge?

Me: Did YOU?

Husband: No... Why? The Tooth Fairy came, I'm sure of it.  (his certainty was compelling and endearing, but ultimately unredeeming.)

With eyes flashing violence and hair swirling around me à la Storm of the X-Men, I hiss-shouted, "I'm certain she's a drunken WHORE who spent last night galavanting with her sister, the Cleaning Fairy, who is NOT a whore, OR drunk, she's amazing!  Instead of checking to make sure our kid got her damned money, she was in Mexico livin' la vida loca!" 

I was a delightful shade of chartreuse before I could harness my rage and vaporize Husband with my lazer-eyes.  I hulked my way into the kitchen where I scrawled a note quickly and began walking it down the hall toward the whimpers of my eldest child.

Kiddo #1: Momma! The Tooth Fairy forgot me, again!

Me: Oh! Oh honey. She must've been busy again.  Oh, but what's the crazy note doing on your bathroom counter?

Kiddo #1: I dunno.  (reading)  It says she couldn't bring the money because it was raining last night!

Me: Oh, and we all know fairies can't fly in the rain!

Kiddo #1: Phew! Well I'm sure she'll come back with money tonight then!

And now you're caught up.

Our Tooth Fairy is clearly a boozer; only a drunkard would think to leave an excuse note for a 5-year old explaining she can't fly in the rain... cuz, like, how'd she get it here in the first place? And don't be all sad that Husband was vaporized  He's secretly got magical healing powers like Wolverine. He was fine (albeit sunburned) 20 minutes later.

To hide his X-Men skills, he claims he got sunburned while golfing with my father last weekend, but now you know the truth.

And, if you can't keep our secret, I may have a hard time controlling my anger... 

The Man. The Legend. My Father.

Kiddo #2 was hanging out with Grandpa on Saturday, which is to say that Old Kiddo #2 and Young Kiddo #2 were hanging out like those Freedom 55 commercials of yore.

"Hey! I know you! You're... me--"
"From the Future.  Wanna play trains?"
"Sure!"

My father, Grampie-- as he's known around these parts, is a horseman. We were raised around horses for most of our young lives, and now that my kids are, well, existing, they are hangin' with the horses, too.

This weekend, while Kiddo #1 did her dressage lesson (which I wrote in italics because you can't say it with normal font, you say it all slanty-like with your mouth.  Dressage.  Dressage.  See, told ya.) Kiddo #2 hung out with my father and his horses.

They fed them, watered them, curried them (which means 'brushed them' to people who wouldn't write dressage with the proper iltalics), and had all sorts of fun.  Kiddo #2 and Grampie chased the barn cats, hunted for the perfect blade of grass... it was everything they ever wanted to do.

Like I said, they're a match made in heaven.

Just before they got ready to go, they brought Buddy out to check something or other.

(Honestly, I wasn't there, I have no idea the order of this story, so if you WERE there, keep it to yourself if this isn't quite how things went down, dig?)

Anyway, Kiddo #2 was watching Grampie do something while Buddy the Horse was on the tethers. Following Grampie's lead, Kiddo #2 also began inspecting the horse and asking all sorts of questions.

Kiddo #2: Grampie, why is Buddy brown?
Grampie: Well, because his mom and dad were brown, I guess.
Kiddo #2: What's that fingy on buddy's face?
Grampie: That's the bridle. It is where we attach the tethers to keep him from running away.
Kiddo #2: How many cats are at the barn?
Grampie: Oh, I think probably 3. There's Toots over there, she's the mama cat. And Fingers is the one with all the extra toes. And sometimes there's a nice grey cat but he isn't here all the time.
Kiddo #2: Do horses like chocowate melk? I do. And Juiiiiiiice. I wuv juice Grampie!
Grampie: Horses just like water. Milk will make them sick.
Kiddo #2: I like your cookies, too, Grampie.
Grampie: We're almost done here and then we'll go have a snack, ok?
Kiddo #2: Ok. Grampie, what's THAT? (pointing to the horses's tail)
Grampie: Now you're just bein' silly! You know that's the tail!
Kiddo #2: (chuckling to himself)  Yeah, Grampie. That's the tail. And here's the weg.  And here's the belly. And... WHAT'S THAT?
Grampie: That's the horse's penis.
Kiddo #2: Wow.  Dat shore is beeg!
Grampie: Yes.
Kiddo #2: I have a penis, too.  My sister doesn't. Grampie, do YOU have a penis?
Grampie: Yes.
Kiddo #2: Is it big like Buddy's?
Grampie: Of course, Kiddo #2.

Honestly.