Saturday, July 13, 2013

The Mother-F*cking Tooth Fairy

Tonight's cocktail is what a friend of mine likes to call "lemonade with benefits." It's essentially a lazy mom's Tom Collins in a Ball Mason jar outfitted with a straw lid. Best idea ever for a summer drink container! 2 oz vodka, 2 oz good-quality bottled lemonade or limeade, pour over ice, top with seltzer.

On to business. I have discovered a huge loophole in my divorce settlement, and I have to issue an immediate public advisory to anyone out there who may be divorcing with small children. When my ex and I split, Tweak and Tink were 5 and 3, and neither had lost a tooth. When Tweak lost his first tooth, he happened to be with his father, who, despite good intentions, ruined everything. And guess who pays for it?

You see, my ex is a loving father, but he is VERY indulgent. I remember one time during the marriage,  Tweak (then 3) was acting like a turd in a restaurant by sliding down under the table. After I retrieved him the second time and removed him from the restaurant and the realm of civilized people, my ex (without telling me this was his plan) took him next door to buy him a cookie, and seemed surprised that my head exploded. He's getting better, but still, this is the default.

So, for Tweak's first tooth fairy visit at his dad's, he got money, baseball cards, a Hot Wheels car, and candy. Just the kind of thing we all have lying around on a random Wednesday night when we can barely stay awake after dinner. The second and third tooth fairy visits also happened at dad's house, and were similar, so instead of feeling fully prepared by having a stash of spare change on hand, I was well and truly screwed.

Every tooth loss on my watch has been a nightmare. I don't feel like I should have to elevate such an everyday thing to a transcendent experience, but my ex has created a monster. If Tweak just gets money, he bitches about it, which makes me so angry I start twitching. He's simply doesn't value money, and yes, this would be a good thing to correct, but you see what I'm fighting against. We'll get there. The last time he complained, I took the money away and said I was sending it back to the tooth fairy to give to a kid who would appreciate it. Then I went and bought myself a Starbucks with it. Because I'm mean.

I guess it's too late to add a Tooth Fairy Clause to our settlement, so here's my proposed solution: I'm going to decree that the tooth fairy can't find my house anymore, and send all the teeth over to dad's. Then I will wait patiently for the day when he doesn't have a stash of supercalifragilisticexpialidotious stuff for the tooth fairy to dole out, and the best he can do is 73 cents and a breath mint. And then I will laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Because like the tooth fairy, karma is a bitch.

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