The Tooth Fairy lets us down again

About a month ago, Mark lost his tooth. And then, somewhere out in the garage, he lost it again.

"I lost my tooth," he screeched.

"I know," I said. "You showed me."

"No," he said, more urgently. "I lost it. The bag it was in--I can't find it."

I just sighed. I knew it would turn up eventually, and yesterday, it finally did.

"I'm putting it under my pillow tonight," Mark told me.

"OK," I said.

He cleared his throat, then made sure I gave him eye contact. 

"I said, I'M PUTTING MY TOOTH UNDER MY PILLOW TONIGHT," he repeated. "So the Tooth Fairy knows." 

And then I sighed again. Man, the kid can't remember to pick his clothes up off the floor, but he remembers the ONE TIME the Tooth Fairy forgot to switch out his tooth for cash. For a week. (C'mon, maybe the Tooth Fairy was busy at work, trying to feed and clothe the little ingrate!)

Either way, that "incident" triggered a new policy wherein Mark has to tell me whenever he hides a tooth under his pillow. That way, I can summon the Tooth Fairy, so she won't forget him.

Which was exactly what he was doing now--notifying me. 

But Mark is no dummy. He paused, then asked me, "Um...does the Tooth Fairy have any money on her tonight?"

"How should I know?" I shrugged. Seriously, the kid's almost 13--he knows the deal, but he's not willing to let up on traditions that involve monetary rewards, no matter how unbelievable they are.

So I hugged him and tucked him in, and made a mental note to remind the Tooth Fairy to stop by tonight. I repeated the mental note approximately 573 times, and then promptly  fell asleep on the couch.

This morning, Mark reported that once again, the Tooth Fairy had slighted him.

"She didn't come," he said sadly from his room. "Again..."

Dammit! I thought. How many times is this gonna happen?? And how many more baby teeth does that dang kid have left??

"Are you sure?" I asked, stalling.

"She forgot," he said. I could hear the unspoken judgment in his tone.

I used my go-to Mom defense. "Did you feed the cats yet?" I asked, and when he shook his head, I got angry and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? GO!"

"OK, OK," he muttered. "Geez..."

And the moment he walked away, I hurried into the office, scrambling for whatever cash I could find to make up for that slacker Fairy. Luckily, there was an errant $5 bill stashed away, so I grabbed it. It was 2 1/2 times what the Tooth Fairy usually pays for a tooth, but this wasn't the time to quibble over prices.

I slipped in and out of Mark's room, then called out once again, "Are you SURE she didn't come? Last time you forgot to check."

I watched him walk into his room. He called out, "I didn't forget to ch--hey, she DID come!" He came out of the room waving the five bucks.

And so the day was saved. A little late, perhaps, and cutting it close, but saved none the less. 

I just hope he loses the rest of those dang baby teeth very soon. Because the Tooth Fairy is old and forgetful, and obviously needs to retire.