After three hours of homework (seriously), an hour of piano practice, cooking dinner, and bath time, I was D-O-N-E. The afternoon had quickly turned to night, and I could hardly wait for 8:30 to flash on our microwave's digital clock.
"It's time for bed, people." I clapped and hollered as I marched up the hallway to check what was going on in the brightly lit bathroom. My homies had been in there, fonching around, for the last ten minutes. I turned the corner, surprised to find wads of toilet paper, dotted with blood, scattered across the bathroom counter.
"My tooth came out." Sam said, turning to show me the blood pumping from his back molar.
"Awesome, Bud. Go to bed." I said, patting him on the back.
"The Tooth Fairy will come tonight. That tooth was hard to get out, Mom."
"I bet it was, Bud. Bed." I said, like a broken record.
Here's the thing: The Tooth Fairy and I were out of cold, hard cash. We were also exhausted to the max. That's why we decided on using the Sacagawea I had found in the dryer the day before. Sue me, and kick me down the street. I now realize that the Tooth Fairy and I stink like toe jam. The old, dirty coin was a heartless and lazy gift. I get it.
I busted a gut when I found Sam's written response to the Tooth Fairy, which was left on his bedroom floor, next to his bed:
Dear Tooth Fairy,
I was expecting more of a gift. I am not trying to be rude but I think you could put a little more efort into that (Not trying to be rude).
The story gets more pathetic. I loved the note so much, I stuffed it into my underwear drawer. I wanted to save it forever. Later that day, Sam found it and asked, "How did the Tooth Fairy's note get in here?"
I stood there, speechless.
P.S. In case you were wondering, I did ask Sam what in the tarnation was he doing, shuffling around in my undergarment business. Apparently he was looking for Christmas presents.