Sol lost a tooth last night. We were all so excited. I hope that when I am old and losing my teeth that I can muster the same level of enthusiasm.
After the celebratory high-fives and wonderment at the new hole in his smile, Sol got out his little tooth box and began examining his other teeth. He has kept them all. He decided with that first tooth that he'd rather keep all his teeth than give them away in exchange for cash.
Last night, to my surprise, he said, "This time, I'm going to put my tooth under my pillow."
"Okay," I said nonchalantly.
"Actually, I'm going to put it inside my pillowcase," he said, eyes wide with excitement.
I sensed a plan to try and foil the toothfairy. "Okay," I said, still working on my nonchalant.
"But you can just put the money under my pillow," Sol said.
"Me?"
"Come on," he said. "You don't expect me to believe that some woman with a magic wand goes around taking people's teeth and leaving behind money. Do you?"
"Well," I said, nonchalant clearly not working for me.
"And what about Santa Claus? This guy with a long white beard, big belly, and 'a nose like a cherry' apparently, riding on a sleigh, with hundreds, no billions of gifts? How do you explain that?"
"Um, I guess some people would say, 'Magic.'" I offered lamely because Luna was listening, and I wanted to give my four-year-old the space to believe it if she wanted.
"Magic is imaginary," she piped in, the eye-rolling exasperation clearly audible.
"Um..."
"Anyway, Mama," Sol said, a hint of 'moving-on' in his voice. "When you put the money under my pillow, can you please put my tooth in the box with my others?"
A dollar coin and he gets to keep his tooth. This kid has skills.
