Here we go again. Time to repeat that ridiculous tradition of bestowing a financial reward for the loss of an enamel-coated body part. You’ve done nothing to earn it other than be the unwitting victim of involuntary biology. If only you could enjoy this income like an adult: “You mean I get money without having to succumb to the drudgery of a low-pay, repetitive job simply for the benefits?”
How I envy your ability to sleep.
After the Tooth Fairy’s last visit, you claimed her contribution toward your engorged piggy bank went missing. Really? Was it misplaced? Stolen? Worse? You said she should come back the next night for a “do over.” She didn’t. Maybe she was drunk due to relationship problems and forgot. Why didn’t her husband help?
Forgetfulness afflicts us all from time to time. Brain gym exercises might help. Lord knows I could do with a few amygdala stretches.
I wonder if that missing jackpot was your initiation into the world of cheats and thieves. Perhaps your sister “borrowed” the money to pay for her gum habit. Or, your Tooth Fairy isn’t a fairy after all but an imp.
I don’t recall. Does your windfall go under your pillow or on your nightstand?
God, this parenting gig is protracted … and exhausting. I admit starting a new business last year was a bit premature as was hiring an intern.
Under the pillow, I think.
Damn! Jack Daniels just made a mess on your pillowcase. I know it smells … a bit smoky, right? You know, like camping… smores. Mama pretends to camp every night in her room with Jack. He’s a renowned liquid fairy dust dealer for adults. Besides, he’s a great therapist, and I can’t afford to find a more socially acceptable one right now.
Remember your first realization that life was unfair? Little Leo ate the last brownie at Ella’s house; and you didn’t get one, even though you’d already eaten more than your fair share of cookies by way of a Cookie Monster impersonation. Even so, you wondered why you were mad reasoning, “Elmo’s always happy.” It wouldn’t have done any good to explain that Elmo’s life hasn’t always been one big giggle-fest. The difference is: he has a publicist, so his woes are usually short-lived. Real life doesn’t work that way. For heaven sakes, I painted your room blue. It’s calming, which is as good as happy.
Growing up is filled with nonstop change and endless opportunities to practice non-attachment. For instance, it took you a while to let go of your pacifier. Don’t fret; you’ll learn that adults have a variety of replacements.
Every so often I worry you might start to wonder about other changes, such as what happened to your stuffed buffalo? Did he get tired of us and leave like your father did? And what about the game cabinet – is there still candy in Candy Land? Of course it’s the mother’s job to teach the tough lessons here: sometimes life is a bunch of shoots with no ladders. I know Thomas The Tank Engine always has friends; but on occasion, friends are the ones who steal from you like Mama’s French intern Bridgette did with Daddy. No, that’s not tattling, just Daddy’s teeny tiny ego feeling entitled to a much younger hand to grip it.
No need to rush the lessons. I’m simply presenting a few ideas to think about the next time you find your Tooth Imp’s, I mean Fairy’s, bonanza has been hijacked.
Here’s your money. I gotta get some sleep, right after Jack Daniels tells Mama a bedtime story.
Meneese Wall is a writer and graphic artist. Her work is inspired by the public, private, & often secret lives of real people. Her maiden voyage as an author and book illustrator will be published mid-2020 – We Demand The Right To Vote: The Journey to the 19th Amendment. Meneese lives in Santa Fe, NM with her husband and daughter. Visit her website at www.meneesewall.com.