There are a lot of things I distinctly remember about being 12 years old. The way I felt "in between," calling friends and asking to "hang out" rather than "play," hiding my Cabbage Patch dolls when more mature friends would visit and instead watching videos on MTV, trying my hand at babysitting, getting a brand new pair of cotton candy pink "A Smile" pants, wondering why Michael Jackson only wore that one glove...
I definitely don't remember losing teeth at age 12.
So when my oldest started talking ad naseum (you know I just have to use that term because the lengths he'd go to to describe his wiggly tooth were endless, positively, absolutely, 100% endless!), I thought it was a little strange. I mean, aren't you done losing teeth by 6th grade? Apparently not. And apparently you aren't done telling every Tom, Dick and Harry you know that you're going to lose a tooth (a BIG one!) any day now.
And this could go on for weeks!
In fact, it did.
It went on so long that I began to get a little nervous that he'd lose it in his sleep and the Tooth Fairy would miss out completely. Or, he'd lose it in a brownie like I did in the 4th grade, and swallow it whole!
(An experience I really don't need to recollect, as it involved a lot of search and rescue missions in the toilet in order to find said tooth)
You're welcome for that visual.
As I was saying...I was a little surprised when he finally yanked that baby out of there at his brother's baseball game the other night. And the size of the tooth! The size was alarming! I thought he may need stitches but no, he was fine - not to mention mighty proud of himself. And so, I began to mentally prepare myself to put on the Tooth Fairy cap in the wee hours of the night in order to conduct the kind of business that Tooth Fairies conduct.
You know...leave the money under the pillow!
Except, it wasn't that easy.
Usually, McRae is a heavy sleeper. He goes to bed easily and falls asleep fast. He hardly ever gets up and if he does, it is to sleepwalk. When that happens, we just redirect him to bed and then laugh about it the next morning. That night? Not so much.
The first time I attempted to pull the 'ol switch-a-roo with a gold coin and the tooth under his pillow, it wasn't even there! I made so much noise rustling around looking for it that I woke him up and then I had to concoct some story as to why I was in his room so late at night.
"Just getting your water glass," I said, "And by the way, where is your tooth? I never got to see it."
We looked everywhere! No tooth. Finally, he found it UNDER HIS BED. Just lying there, not wrapped in anything or even in a baggie, which I always tell the kids is the preferred method of transport for teeth to the Tooth Fairy. Oh no, it was just lying there. Now how was I supposed to find that in the dark?
After getting him a Ziploc and admiring the size of the tooth, I tucked him back into bed and kissed him goodnight, AGAIN. Only to return 30 minutes later. "Creeeeeeeeek," said the door when I opened it the 2nd time. "Hi mom!" Said my oldest, springing up in his bed. "Ugh," said me.
Finally, at about 2am, I was able to sneak into his room undetected and swap the coin for the tooth, placing it in it's rightful spot in the box that hides in my underwear drawer. I was so tired the next morning, I nearly forgot to ask him what the Tooth Fairy brought him, but when I did, he smiled and showed me the coin.
"I still get these mom," he said holding it up for me to admire, "isn't it cool?"
I'm getting too old for this.