Okay.  So, this post will probably be a bit different than my usual posts, but I had to write about this experience.  Last night, I had an overnight babysitting job for the first time in at least sixteen years.  As a single, never-married woman of her early thirties with no children and no nieces or nephews, it is a safe assessment that I am a bit naive to what it takes to be a parent.  Now, I do actually work with children a lot (day in and day out for almost two straight months every summer in fact) and am CPR/First Aid certified, but typically, I don’t stay overnight with them.  I simply don’t think about a lot of things that parents clearly have to think about.

Leading back to last night as I am drawing at the table with the two children, the youngest, a girl of nine years old, shows me that her tooth fell out that day.  My first unvoiced thoughts were “hmm, she still has baby teeth at nine?  I wonder how old I was?”  We all continued drawing.  A few minutes later, we retreat upstairs as I tell them it’s time to go to bed.  I’m standing in the youngest’s room as she is writing a note that reads “Can I keep the necklace?” and ask what she is doing.  She begins to tell me that she’s writing the Tooth Fairy and shows me the tooth necklace (a slightly bigger tooth shaped holder attached with a pink string that contains her tooth from earlier that day).  She wants to keep the necklace this time and mentions something about the tooth and a plastic baggie.  In hindsight I definitely missed something within that conversation, but at the time my brain had finally kicked into the reality of the situation.  My overnight babysitting job had just become an acting gig that I was not prepared to audition for, let alone get the part!

After choosing which pillow-pet should be added to the collection framing the gap between the bed and wall, I head to my guest room and begin to text the children’s mom. I am hoping that their tooth fairy isn’t a big tipper.  Thankfully, a dollar is all it’s going to take, so I can cover it.  We decided she could keep the necklace, that way I would just need to leave the dollar.  No sweat, right?  I then set my alarm for five o’clock in the morning in order to make my silent film debut as a tooth fairy!  It’s kind of exciting to play such a big role in childhood imagination.  I fondly remember waking up to cool silver dollar’s or several quarters under my pillow.  Ahh…childhood.  The days where we believe the supernatural with childlike innocence and wonder.  Somehow we’re scared of the dark as children, but the thought of a fairy coming into our rooms to take our teeth once they’ve fallen out, leaving us money is not scary at all… … …

I cannot sleep well.  I fade in and out all night listening to the rain hit the windows outside and occasionally petting the giant doberman when he walks in and out of the room.  The most well behaved large dog I have ever encountered.  I wake up at 4:27am and think…this is as good a time as ever.  I head down the hallway.  I open the door.  She starts shifting in bed, so I cannot tell she’s asleep.  Awkward panic.  Dog decides he wants petted, and I’ve got to keep him from going into the room and scaring her.  I head back to my room to rethink this situation.  It suddenly hits me that the Tooth Fairy might be the creepiest childhood scenario ever made up.  I feel creepy.  What happens if she wakes up & forgets who I am?!  What happens if the dog suddenly turns into a scary giant doberman instead of a the well behaved gentle giant I have known for just a few hours?  Why do my knees crack so much with every step I take?  They sound awful! This is not a good sign for my future in tennis.  I try again a half hour later.  Knees cracking, I open the door…sneak in…leave the dollar by the tooth necklace…draw a smiley face on the note…and get out, shutting the door behind me.  I hope I didn’t get spotted.  I hope I don’t destroy the mystery of the tooth fairy for this nine year old.  I wonder if I ever have children whether I’ll do this whole tooth fairy thing.  I wonder if she’ll tell me about it when she’s getting ready for school.

She does.  As we sit at the dining table eating our breakfast, she says: “I got a dollar.”  To which I reply: “from who?!”  She follows up with a look that clearly says something:  “the Tooth Fairy, but she left the tooth.  I just wanted to keep the necklace, not the tooth!”

I’m pretty sure the look said that she thinks the Tooth Fairy is an idiot.  I decide to say “oh goodness, maybe next time you’ll just have to leave the tooth fairy a more specific note…”  And we continue eating breakfast.  The Scarecrow isn’t the only thing in need of a brain…

I don’t believe this is an epic fail.  It could have been a lot worse.  This tiny experience leaves me pondering a lot of philosophical questions now…

Tooth Fairy.  Cool?  or Creepy?