You know how every once in a while the stars align: You are struck by inspiration, have the means to carry it out, it goes off perfectly, and you create this completely magical moment for your kids?
Ben lost a tooth the other day at school – I found out because I got a phone call from the office. “Nothing to worry about, but Ben lost his tooth today…and then he…uh…lost his tooth today. So he might be upset when he gets off the bus,” followed by a second call 5 minutes later – “Tell Ben that Miss M and Mme H were on their hands and knees searching on the floor and we found his tooth!!”
He came home yesterday with the tooth in a tiny green treasure chest, and (being Ben) questioned how the tooth fairy would get it open – “Will she be strong enough? She’s pretty tiny…” and then, after some thought, he concluded that she would use her magic.
I believe I have in the past touched on my feelings about glitter, or as I like to call it, the herpes of the parenting world.
A little while back my mom came home from a trip with some clothes for Molly – heavy on the sequins and tulle; y’know, totally not Molly’s style, right? – and gleefully announced, “And the lady in the store gave me this – Fairy dust!” Eyeing the pot of impossibly fine loose pink glitter like someone had just handed me a sack full of wolverines on methamphetamines, I said, “Seriously?” and immediately banished her from my home for all eternity.
But last night, as I insomniacally completed advanced sudokus in the bathroom, I thought, “Oh. My. God. Pink glitter + opened treasure chest = tooth fairy magic.”
Ben didn’t notice right away, so I said, “Ben, were you and Molly playing with glitter? There’s glitter in this box.” Ben (slightly panicked) said, “No! It must be from school! *long pause* ….or…..*whispered breathlessly*….it’s fairy dust.”
With eyes as wide as ping-pong balls, he pinched some in his fingers and sprinkled it on himself, then whispered, “I lost my tooth. And I won my Spellathon!” put his arms out to the sides, teetered on his tippy-toes, and fell over.
He looked disappointed for a second, and I said, “Ben…did you…did you just….I thought I saw you float for just a second there before you fell.” Ian shot me a worried look of, “Are you sure about this?” Ben said, “I did? Really? I did!!” and dashed out of the room:
“Molly!! MOLLY!!! The Tooth Fairy left FAIRY DUST behind and I put it on me and thought happy thoughts and I FLOATED FOR JUST A SECOND!!!!!!!”
Aaaannnnnnnnnd… THAT’S how it’s done! 😀
A clear parenting “win”.
What a great post!
Well done! Despite my theater background, this is The Sarge’s area of expertise. He loves creating these magical scenarios with our kids (Santa’s magic key–since we have no chimney, Easter Bunny footprints, etc.)
I am simply impressed by the word “insomniacally.”
Lol – Can you believe my spellcheck didn’t think it was a real word? Honestly.
So cute! My almost 7yo has all of his teeth still firmly planted in his head. I wonder when I’ll need to bust out the fairy dust?
Don’t lose hope! Ben lost his first in January, maybe? and they’ve been falling out fast and furious ever since – So keep the fairy dust handy because once they start they’re like dominoes!