More Tooth Fairy

First of all . . . my wonderful sister-in-law asked where my husband, who is in dental school, was during the tooth pulling.  All I can say is that sometimes mothers are tougher than fathers.   Or more callous.  Or less busy.  Whatever.  Who knows why he didn't do it.  Maybe just because I was there and don't mind doing it. 

So to continue the tooth fairy story.  Here we are, three days after I pulled Morgan's fine tooth.  And, of course, the tooth fairy hasn't come.

I was in the bathroom tonight, washing my face, and Morgan walked in.

"Mom," she says in a polite voice.  "The tooth fairy?"

"Oh yeah." I reply.  "Can you ask me about that when I have my wallet handy?"

"Mom," in a voice that conveys complete confidence in what she wants.  "I want my tooth fairy money under my pillow.  And I don't want to see it being put under the pillow."

As I'm sitting here writing this, Morgan is looking over my shoulder, and we are having a conversation about using the word please. 

Also, I'm lying here trying to avoid falling asleep while I finish this little blog.  And the tooth fairy didn't come this night.

In all fairness, I asked, "Morgan, where is your tooth???"

She giggled, "I don't know.  Not under my pillow.  I think I lost it "

Hmmm . . .