I recognize that I'm not actually a parent- but I pretty much feel like I am. By the time I'm ready to have my own kids it'll be great, because I'll have mastered all parenting skills and therefore my children will be just incredible. (Right? I mean, clearly there's a one-size-fits-all formula...Right?)---[NOTE: in case the sarcasm was undetectable, I will just say- it was there...]
But in all seriousness, I do feel like I am learning first-hand some of the many challenges that come along with parenting, and how one might go about overcoming these challenges- on a frequent basis I have to figure out how to deal with temper tantrums, attitudes, refusal to do things or eat things or go places, schedule conflicts, navigating peer relationships, answering awkward questions, to name just a few. I feel like these are all things parents would expect to encounter- they cause anxiety, frustration, nervousness, disappointment, and pain. But- somehow, I managed to overlook the *hardest* most terrifying part of parenting. No one ever mentioned how I would be moved to panic- I'm talking cold-sweat, racing-heart, hyperventilating sort of panic. What is the cause, this awful, all-consuming stress inducer?
Becoming the tooth-fairy.
In what should have been a fairly stress-free ten second period, I realized that I suddenly possessed the power to destroy magic in the eyes of a child. I waited until I could barely hold my eyes open before creeping into Jack's room around midnight. I could feel and hear my own heart pounding. I could hear my shallow quick breathing- and these blaring noises muted the most important thing for me to hear- Jack's breathing. I couldn't tell- was he asleep? Was he awake? Was he faking and hoping to catch me in the act.
I did a double-take. Left the room. Went and washed my hands, took a few deep breaths. Went back in- the scrunched money in my hand ready to switch it for the tooth. I slowly inch my hand beneath the pillow- but I find no tooth. Where is it? Did he intentionally not put it under the pillow? Is this a test? My hand hits plastic- I have found the tooth bag. My heart races and sweat begins to trickle down my face- all I can think is he will wake up, and look at me sleepy-eyed, yet fully aware of what has happened and the truth that is unfolding before him. But, God had mercy on my soul- I make the switch and walk safely out of the room. Upon conclusion of this terrifying experience, I conclude one thing:
Whoever came up with the concept of the tooth fairy quite obviously did not have children. What kind of sicko would do such a thing?
And I'm also left with one hope- that I never find myself responsible for making the magical trade of tooth for money ever again. Ever.
Yours Truly,
Rachel
