Oliver is seven and a half. This sweet child, bless his heart, has had to go this long without losing any teeth. Other kids start losing their teeth in kindergarten… Hazel has friends who have lost teeth already. And Oliver’s teeth were stubbornly hanging on for dear life.
I tried explaining to him that it’s a good thing–what with inflation on earnings from the Tooth Fairy, and the fact that the less time you have your grown up teeth, the less time you have to screw them up… but he wasn’t buying it. He just wanted to lose his danged teeth.
I want to pause for a moment and contemplate with you how weird it is that this happens to us. If some other body part suddenly became loose and wiggly and fell OFF OF OUR BODY, we would not celebrate. We would go to the hospital. I know that there are replacements standing in the wings for our fallen baby teeth, but it’s still so odd to me.
Well, a couple of weeks ago, Oliver’s tooth finally got a little bit loose. He quickly learned that it isn’t all Tooth Fairies and rainbows, however, because biting into some foods was quite painful for him. And when we’ve been on the go, having a husband who carries a knife around all the time has been handy when we give the kids apples to munch on… and realize that the poor child can’t eat them whole. (The difficulty of biting into an apple with loose/lost teeth is a trauma I have not fully gotten over from my kindergarten days when Miss Linda wouldn’t cut my apple, which made me cry, and I hate crying in front of people, so I hated her from them on, and apparently have not gotten over it.)
Then, early Saturday morning, it happened. Oliver’s tooth fell out. He proudly pranced into our room at some unholy hour to show us (Kullervo). When Hazel found out, she cried. She’s apparently been holding out hope that she would lose her first tooth before Oliver did.
Oliver’s first gaping hole in his mouth!
Well, wouldn’t you know, in the excitement of the day (and of showing the unfortunate soul who came to eat breakfast with us that day), Oliver forgot to put his tooth under his pillow. Which I realized at an unholy hour on Sunday morning, when I panicked thinking that we had not done our parental duties of lying to our children in order to create a magical world that can collapse on them when they are preteens and realize that we are big, fat liars.
Not only had Oliver forgotten, however… he had also misplaced his lost tooth.
Last night, he put the following note under his pillow:
Kullervo encouraged him to write this, but had no say over content… that was all Oliver.
Dear Tooth Fairy, I lost my tooth on our counter today. Please still pretend I did have it under my pillow. love, Oliver
This morning, when Oliver woke up, he found this under his pillow.
The Tooth Fairy, if you’re wondering, was born a righty but was forced into using her left hand to write with… hence the handwriting.
Along with the note, Oliver received two dollar coins and six dollar bills. It turns out that the Tooth Fairy, when looking for appropriate amounts of change, cannot count and gave an extra dollar bill. Kullervo pointed out this morning that she’s a Tooth Fairy, not an accountant, so I should stop worrying about it.
Whatever. I’m an accountant.