The husband and I are thrown back in time to visiting the dentist as children. Old, grumpy, unsympathetic men (they were probably 30) who jabbed and stabbed with little care or anesthesia. Coming out of the office into the bitter cold and wrapping a scarf around our faces to try and reduce the added insult to our mouths. No treasure box to distract at the end of the visit. No cheerful sticker or new toothbrush for us.
Regardless of the glossy, child friendly system that my children enjoy, getting a tooth pulled is not fun under any circumstances and we dreaded the appointment. The ten year old was a trooper. As I reflected on how different our childhood experiences are, she lay back calmly in the chair. Both parents there with her in the room. A screen in the roof showing a movie to distract her. It hurt a little of course, needles in the gum just do but it was over in a flash and she was her usual smiling jolly self within minutes. The dentist handed her a sweet little treasure box with her tooth safely stored inside and we headed off for ice cream to celebrate her bravery.
At bedtime she wrote a note for the tooth fairy - explaining that she didn't want to put the tiny tooth under her pillow for fear it would get lost and pointing out the new location on her desk. We tucked her in and went about our evening. Tip toeing into her room to check on her later I notice that there has been an addition to the note:
p.s. Can you pull of a twenty?
I laughed long and hard. You have to admire that kind of chutzpah, made even better by being completely out of character for my girl, she rarely asks for anything material.
Here's the rub - there is celtic heritage in our tooth fairy so a twenty is against the grain but there on her desk in the morning was a crisp $20 note - so it seems chutzpah must out rank frugality in fairy land. Who knew?