Isobel does Bogart...Thank god for Water...

      I was coming through the kitchen when Isobel pointed at me and began to laugh. Most of you are thinking that should go without saying but strangely enough, the children don't often laugh at me...Not yet anyway...
      Daddy: "What?"
      Isobel: "Your butt!"
      Daddy: "Pardon?"
      Isobel: "Your butt has a window!"
      Daddy: "My butt has a what?"
      Isobel: "A window, your butt has a window!"
      Daddy: "Well, I don't know that I would call it a window so much as a...wait what. what do you mean?"
      Isobel: "Butt window, I can see your underpants."
      Daddy: "Oh, the hole in my shorts."
     Isobel: "Right, I can see your underpants. Butt Window!"



        The Tooth Fairy has been making the rounds here abouts for a couple of years now, though The Boy could be considered a late bloomer in the tooth department. Then again so was Izzy. There have been many questions as to the validity of the Tooth Fairy and whether not believing in said Fairy might negate the getting of loot for teeth.
      "Daddy, is the Tooth Fairy real?" Isobel asked.
      "It depends what you believe, Pick." I said. I sensed the imminent arrival of another Ward Cleaver moment.
      "What do you believe, do you believe in the Tooth Fairy?"
       I took a deep breath and let it out long and slow.
      "I think it's best to keep an open mind about these kinds of things." I finally said.
      "That doesn't tell me anything." she said sounding a little frustrated.
      "But don't you feel better anyway? I asked as I kissed her goodnight and left her room.
       I'm starting to find out that sometimes it's better to keep the magic alive than let fly with the truth. Even as they get older. I remember The Boy was starting to catch on to the real world.
      "Are you Santa?" he asked me after reading the note I had written for the kids one Christmas eve.
      "No." I said. And I am not. If he had asked if I had written the note, the answer might have been different but he asked if I were Santa. Who am I kidding though, really. If he had asked about the note, I would have lied through my teeth. Keep the magic alive.
      But enough about magic...finally a couple of Isobel's front teeth began to wiggle and she was losing her mind that neither would come out of their own volition.
      "Eat an apple," I suggested. "That should loosen it right up."
      "No," she whimpered. "It will hurt too much."
      "Or you could try chocolate," said The Boy.
      "Chocolate?" asked Izzy.
      "Yep." said The Boy.
      "That's right," I said. "One of his teeth came out eating a chocolate bunny. You could try that."
      "Noooo!" she whined. "It will hurt too much."
      Mrs. Narrator looked into Izzy' mouth and said, "I give it another couple of weeks before it falls out."
      A couple of weeks came and went and the tooth stayed put and the Tooth Fairy stayed away. Where before she would wonder and muse about how much she would get from putting the tooth under her pillow, to cursing the rotten tooth for ever being in her head in the first place.
      "I wish this dangy tooth would just come out already." she moaned."It's probably not going to be worth anything now because it's been in so long."
      "Teeth come out when they're supposed to, Pickle." I soothed. "You'll still get the loot whenever it comes out. And I'll bet it's going to come out any day now."
      But another week went by and we all sort of forgot about the tooth.
   Sunday she was brushing her teeth before bed and I heard a loud "OW!" come from the bathroom.
      "Mummy look" she yelled and I thought it had finally come out.
      "Daddy can probably get that out if you want him to." said Mrs. Narrator.
      "No!" said Izzy. "It will hurt."
      "Let me see it Pick," I said.
      It was literally hanging by a thread. I could easily reach in and pull it out before she even knew what happened. My Mother was always good at tricking you into pulling out your own tooth or letting her do it without you knowing.
      "No, I want to do it." she said.
      "Oh. OK. Just grab a hold of it and pull on it really quick," I said a little surprised at her sudden bravery. "It'll pop right out."
     But it didn't or at least she couldn't get a good enough hold of it to pull it out fast enough. I prepared to reach in and grab a hold when she took the tooth and made a noise that I hadn't heard from her before. It was a half cry half growl that rumbled past her lips. It was the same noise I made in a schoolyard fight in the fifth grade. I was in a headlock, my head was slammed against a wall. I made that noise and lost my mind. I imagine it is the noise that many make during times of undue duress. Like reaching into your mouth an snapping the remaining nerve that tethers your tooth to your mouth.
     And with a little pop it came out. It is easily the smallest tooth I have ever seen. Much smaller than The Boy's first tooth to come out. She had a bit of a lisp for and hour or two, over much too soon but damned funny while it was here. She insisted that a note be written to the Tooth Fairy so she could take her tooth to school and still collect the cash. And how much is a tooth worth these days? Five bucks....anybody got a pair of pliers?


      It was her bedtime and she was stalling for some reason. That or she had suddenly come down with Alzheimer's disease and was losing her short term memory. She changed her outfit choice for school twice and then tried to pick a third. She left things downstairs and would need to get them one by one. What should have  been a half an hour bedtime was creeping up on an hour and we hadn't even had as story yet.
      Finally she was laying down and I was opening a book.
     "Oh wait, Daddy." she said as she got out of bed and headed out of her room for the eleventy first time.
     "What now!!?!?" I said not hiding the frustration in my voice.
     Normally this tone of voice might bring tears or sheepish expressions and I would feel shitty for having lost my patience and offered to buy her a small Scottish Island or horse or something. However, she wasn't upset at all. In fact, she was in the bathroom filling up her sippy cup when I walked in.
     "Just getting a drink." she said.
     "Oh," I said, a little confounded. "Ready for your story?"
     "Yep." she said and bounded back to her room, cup in hand.
      "I get really thirsty at night now," she said. "I need to have lots of water at night. I think it's because I drool a lot."
     "Oh, I guess..." I said.
      "No seriously," she said "I drool. Holy crap I drool a lot!" 
     "Well," I began after a heavy sigh. "thank god for water then."