Gavin lost a tooth at school on Friday. He came home telling a tale of paper towels "full of blood".
The tooth went right under the pillow and, you guessed it, she didn't show.
The next morning, Gavin said, "Mom, I know why the tooth fairy couldn't come, it was the storm."
Dodged a bullet with that one, I did.
So tonight, the Gavinator walks over to me and says, "Look mom, another tooth!" He pulled it himself and only two drops of blood on his t-shirt to disappoint him. He ran to put it under his pillow while screaming, "Just in case the rain stops and she can get here tonight, I'll be ready."
Maleah, in the living room with me, ponders the truth about the tooth fairy. Picture her, all almost eight years of her, standing with her hand on her hip waving her other hand and saying "I wonder if she's real, I mean, I believe in her, definitely, but I wish I could see her. I think it might be really God and not the tooth fairy at all. But hen I wouldn't ever see Him anyway. Oh, well."
Hopefully the money gets under the pillow sometime, storm or no storm. I don't have a real good track record.