My son finally lost his first tooth. About a month before his 8th Birthday.
Apparently he’s like the last kid in the whole wide world to lose a tooth. As his mother, I am totally cool with him hanging on to his baby teeth for as long as possible. I am also now responsible for perpetuating the lie that is The Tooth Fairy.
The night he lost the tooth, his father convinced him to put the little pebble like memento into a plastic baggie. And set it on his nightstand, rather than under his pillow. Actually, I think Devin came up with the nightstand idea because that was far more practical than expecting a Fairy to slide under your pillow – after she’s gone through all the trouble of flying through your window.
So Devin goes to bed, the husband goes off somewhere else, and I am left to do the Tooth Fairy bidding. To be honest, I’m a little excited. I’m the mom who wakes up my kids in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve so they can “sneak” a peek at Santa Claus. There’s something really fun about passing on an illogical belief in magic.
Except, I don’t carry cash. Ever.
I check the mad cash wallet in the junk drawer (that may or may not at one point have been a child’s wallet and somehow has turned into “when we need cash for crap” stash) – but there’s only a twenty. There’s no freaking way I’m putting $20 on the kid’s nightstand.
No biggie. Surely I can find enough change to equal a dollar. Right?
I go through the change purse of my wallet and the husband’s nightstand. Three quarter’s, three nickels and a dime. Well, it’s not pretty… but it’s a fucking dollar.
I sneak in, swap out the tooth for the coins (because “coins” sounds so much classier than “change”), and sneak out. And snicker to myself and how sneaky I am!
The next morning, Devin sulks out of his room, bag o’ coins in hand.
“Hey buddy! Did the tooth fairy come last night?” I ask, trying to feign ignorance. Which is hard for me, being naturally brilliant and all.
“Ooooh, did the Tooth Fairy bring you money? How cool is that?” I am practically oozing with smugness. I rock as a parent. Really.
Devin thrusts the baggie towards me in disgust, “the tooth fairy gave me 90 cents!”
“Ohhh that is – wait. What? What the hell do you mean 90 cents?”
“Yeah. 90 cents. Isn’t that weird?”
“That is a little strange… I wonder if maybe the tooth fairy brought you a dollar and one of the coins…” I begin casually upturning the furniture in his room to find that fucking dime. Son of a bitch.
“Yeah, I know. The kids at school said I would get at least two dollars!”
“I know honey, I’m sure – what? Two dollars?? It’s a tooth! It fell out of your head! All by itself!”
“I’m just saying. Everyone else gets two dollars. Sometimes more.”
“Yeah, well, it was a little tooth.”
Seriously people?? Two dollars? Sometimes more?? I’m pretty sure when I was a kid it was considered a raise when you got TWO quarters instead of one. I thought I was being generous with a whole dollar (er, 90 cents, whatever.) A friend of mine told me they gave their kid $5 and a Disney DVD. PER. TOOTH! (And I love you honey, but that’s just CRAZY TALKIN!!)
Internet, enlighten me. What in the name of all that is holy and/or made up is the going rate for this: