My oldest didn’t loose his front teeth like everyone else. Like other kids they did come out, but not without drama.
The first drama happened when the boys were in the back yard playing t-ball with the little boy next door. We had a little plastic set with a little lever, that, when stomped, would send the ball up into the air for the kids to hit with the humongous yellow plastic bat. When it was Ian’s (the kid next door) turn, my oldest suddenly had to lean down to adjust something, which resulted in him getting hit in the mouth with the bat swung by Ian. He found the tooth and marched in the house spitting blood announcing with pride, “Mom, Ian got my tooth out. He hit it out with a baseball bat.” In their minds, Ian had hit a home run.
Not many days later, said son was again in the back-yard with his father. Said son was also getting wild and darting around like an unguided missile. My husband held his hand out to get the wild man to slow down, but what missile responds to hand signals? Not ours. Instead, he continued on through, slamming his face into his dad’s hand. Result? Another tooth out. That Sunday, he went to church proudly sporting the gap on his bottom gum. When the pastor commented on his, my son proudly reported that one tooth had been knocked out by a baseball bat but the other tooth came out easier. It had come out when his dad hit him in the mouth.
So it was time for the tooth fairy to start making house calls. My son, the pack rat, didn’t want to give up the baby teeth, treasure that they were, and delayed putting his teeth under his pillow. Finally he decided (and we went along with it) that the tooth fairy could be bribed. He decided to try it with the first tooth. He’d but a quarter under his pillow in hopes that the tooth fairy would accept coinage in lieu of a tooth and she’d give him the same pay-out as his friends– $1.
That night, he decided to sleep in his pop-up tent. With the sleeping bag and pillows, went the quarter. No simple sneaking in the room and slipping coins under a pillow. The little tent closed with Velcro and I was afraid that would wake him up, so I crawled in the little tunnel opening to add the extra three quarters.
The next morning, as expected, he gleefully bounded into the kitchen announcing that tooth fairy was “really real” (and apparently bribable). “Mom, you want to see my quarters?” He held out his hand and showed me not four, but six quarters.
© Laura Hedgecock 2009