My husband is not the tooth fairy. I know this for a fact. A couple of nights ago, some time after 11:00 PM, my son lost his tooth. Or I should say, yanked it out. He proudly marched downstairs and presented the bloody thing to my husband, who was still watching TV.
"Make sure the tooth fairy comes, Dad!" Bubba said.
Well, the tooth fairy didn't come, because the tooth fairy was already in bed, and had no idea that she was needed on the job.
The next morning, when I was making breakfast, my daughter came downstairs. "Mom," she said. "Dad forgot to be the tooth fairy. You need to get up there and do it!"
"Bubba lost a tooth?" I asked.
"Yeah. He woke me up, so I heard all about it," she said.
I quickly found some cash in my purse and rushed upstairs to take the tooth. Fortunately, the boy was still sleeping.
Ten minutes later, I officially woke him up. Of course, he had to check to see if the tooth fairy came. He was quite pleased when he saw the cash. "I guess Dad's not the world's worst tooth fairy," he said.