Monday, February 1, 2010

Would-be men

My son punched his own tooth out yesterday. Fortunately it was loose already and also fortunately the little guy has a great sense of humor and appreciation for the ironic. Still, he punched out his own tooth.
"Hey, MOM!!! My other front tooth is gone." He smiled at me, the blood still fresh on his mouth. For a brief, heart stopping second I thought he had punched out his recently acquired adult tooth.
"Wow, that's great, Bud. More money from the tooth fairy, huh?"
"Actually, I wish you guys would call me Sport."
"Um, OK, Sport. Sorry."
"Do you think the tooth fairy is going to give me five bucks, or maybe more this time because I punched it out?"
"I think the rates are fixed, Bu---uh, Sport."

And so, right as sleep nearly crept in, Jon sat up in bed, as millions of parents do, and said "Oh, sh*t, the tooth."
We then scrambled in the dark for money. I pulled a one-dollar-bill out of my wallet and Jon shook his head.
"No, no, that's not enough. I've been giving him fives."
"What the fu---fives?! That seems like a lot for a little rotted, nasty tooth."
"Inflation."
"Right."
So, now Lucian has about 20 bucks sitting on his dresser. He wants to give five to the Haiti fund at school and keep the rest "for a big toy."
I do not have the heart to tell him that $15 will not get him a big toy. It won't get him a big anything. In fact, I think the 5 bucks will go further.

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