The Tooth Fairy Needs A Secretary

Yes, I know the term "secretary" is hopelessly antiquated. But the Tooth Fairy is a mythological creature. Ergo, she is allowed to call her help whatever she wishes.

Natalie lost another tooth yesterday. That's the fourth one she's lost in the last eight weeks. She's fast on her way to gumming all her food, like an elderly person eating dinner at Old Country Buffet at 4:30 PM.

(We tease her that she's going to be forced to eat nothing but mashed bananas the rest of the winter, but that's only because she loathes all things banana. The love is strong in this household.)

Want to see her hillbilly smile? It's adorable.





















Unfortunately, the Tooth Fairy -- doubtlessly exhausted from nursing a newborn the repeated trips to our house the last few months -- didn't retrieve the tooth from under Natalie's pillow last night. Which means there was no small amount of pouting, crying and deep sighing this morning when we all got up.

I tried to comfort her with the thought that the Tooth Fairy is hardly ever derelict in her duties. After all, she even managed to get the tooth that fell out the night before Mom and Dad left for the hospital to have Teyla.

(Barely. Corey and I were already in bed, half-asleep, when I bolted upright and whispered sharply, "Oh! No!" Corey later told me this is the wrong thing to say to your husband in the middle of the night when you are already four centimeters dilated.)

But that did little to soothe the disappointed spirit of a six-year-old with no teeth and not enough quarters to show for it.

Hopefully, the Tooth Fairy will do better tonight. Does anyone want to volunteer to make a reminder call? Those fairies can be so undependable once the lights go out.