After a somewhat belated start; whereby I was forced out of bed due to the intense force of the noises emanating from demented warthog that had apparently snuck into my bed, overnight, and displaced my husband, and said husband emerged from said bed some moments before 10.00a.m. we head off on our weekly (ish) Family Day.
It was a trip to Queenscliff for fish and chips and a run around and then … we’d see how things went from there.
How they went is we ended up on the ferry to Sorrento, as opposed to the nearly two hour long train ride in Queenscliff. This mean we would be home sooner, rather than later.
In theory of course. In reality, we struck traffic immediately upon or disembarking from the ferry and our “we’ll be home in just over an hour” was repeated approximately every 45 minutes for the first two and a half hours.
Godzilla fell asleep at some point, and remained so. Monkey Boy and Chippie became extremely bored and commenced the SHUT UP game they invented last weekend. That is, until Grumpy and I yelled “SHUT UP” in a way that had them shut up immediately.
So they started fighting with each other and we had much of this action going on:
Moments later, I hear Monkey Boy explain with considerable surprise “Oh! My tooth has come out!”
A gajillion thoughts run through my head; some related to the dubious efficiency of our Tooth Fairy, and some pondering exactly how it was extracted.
I look at Chippie to see if he may have had something to do with it.
I start with a sigh. Then “How?”
“When I was fighting with him, I smacked myself in the face and it came out.”
I inserted something like a nose-snorty laugh and mumbled something about “idiot”.
Then I realised; this is his last tooth! And I am overcome with a wave of sadness. The end of an era (for him, anyway, I still have another set and a half to get through). My mind flooded with memories:
Like his disappointment that all his friends were losing teeth in prep and he didn’t. His sadness and how I had to comfort him, despite actually having no clue about the life cycle of baby teeth.
His – and my – excitement at his first tooth loss – YAY! I got to be a Tooth Fairy … and still had no clue and came up with the brilliant idea of letting him decide if the Tooth Fairy was a single entity, or more a team of entities. He chose “team” and informed me (after getting a coin, but no note) that the team member always leaves a note.
I faced a toothy lifetime, therefore, of coming up with notes in different fonts and colours, and coming up with names for each, individual Tooth Fairy. I realise I am an idiot.
I survived the Swallowed A Tooth While Eating A Carrot scenario, and managed the Tooth Fairy side of things remarkably well, I thought.
I counselled him through a number of incidents, whereby a little girl at school was happily informing her classmates that there was “no such thing” as the Tooth Fairy. Ditto Santa and the Easter Bunny.
I counselled him, and cried with him, when, at the tender age of 7, I had to have “that” very discussion with him, It occurred two days before I was due to undergo surgery to have a 3.8kg growth removed from my abdomen.
(Yes, his younger brother.)
We agreed we would “keep the magic” going for both our sakes.
I will miss sitting down to breakfast and thinking “Oh, fuck it! I forgot – AGAIN!”
Although, before bedtime tonight, he did say to me “I hope we get an Australian Tooth Fairy tonight. I think the last couple have been from America. They’re turning up during the day while I’m at school.”
And I did do my best to organise it for him …