Gee, If I Could Only Lose My Two Front Teeth

Abby lost her first tooth!

Abby lost her first tooth in kindergarten. Emma’s pearly whites were practically cemented into her perfectly pink gums. She was speechless with jealously, since Abby had slam dunked her in this milestone. Tooth Fairy showed kindness to her. As she put a Sacajawea gold dollar under Abby’s pillow, she left this note for Emma. 

 12-19-99

Dear Emma,

I am sure that your time for tooth money is coming. Be patient and obey your parents. If you are good, your teeth will fall out, and I can bring you some money, too. Be a sweet girl.

Love,

Tooth Fairy

901-386-XXXX

Oddly, Tooth Fairy had the same telephone number as Chuck’s mother. Neither 5-year-old realized this as they excitedly dialed the number for a chat. Tooth Fairy praised Abby’s accomplishment and encouraged Emma’s patience.

And the next time . . . . 

Abby lost her first top tooth!

Dear Emma,

C

U

SOON!

Love, 

Tooth Fairy

And the next . . . . 

A snaggletooth Abby!

Dear Emma,

Don’t give up and eat lots of apples!

Love, 

Tooth Fairy

Thirteen months after the first note, a desperate Emma wrote back.

January 20, 2001

Dear Tooth Farey,

I need to ceepe you besey (keep you busy). Come to visit me soon.

Love, 

Emma

It seems that’s what Tooth Fairy was waiting for all along.

Hallelujah!!!

Dear Emma, 

FINALLY!

Whew,

T.F.

She lost the first two on the bottom. The others weren’t budging. It was Abby who kept Tooth Fairy busy. Emma didn't need her services again for quite some time.

Dear Tooth Feriey,

Come back. Wer are you? I miss you. Do you miss me? Plees breg me something. Don’t come for Abby that much iny mor.

Love,
Emma

Catching up!

Dear Emma, 

It’s about time! I thought you would never lose another tooth. By Christmas all you will want is your two front teeth.

Love, 

Tooth Fairy

 

At last, a snaggletooth Emma!

Dear Santa, 

All Emma needs for Christmas is her two front teeth.

Love,

Tooth Fairy

For some reason, Tooth Fairy struggled to dispose of the precious lost teeth. She stashed them into Ziploc bags labeled with each child's name and left them in my closet to be forgotten about until 3:00 one morning in the fall of 2012, when the shelf over my hanging clothes let loose from the wall and came crashing down. 

All things work together for good, so over the course of the next week, I cleaned out and sorted and got rid of . . . and stumbled across 3 sets of baby teeth (and one of my nephew Jeremy's that he lost when he was with us one weekend). Tooth Fairy had tucked them away in an old jewelry box. 

What do you do with 61 baby teeth?  I suppose I could have found an amazing craft on Pinterest that would have immortalized them for all eternity--or until the kids moved me into an old folks home and tossed it. Instead, we sprinkled them near the hydrangea bush while we sang "Kum Bah Yah" and "The Circle of Life."

I hope a future homeowner doesn't get his backyard dug up because an assumed major crime scene is uncovered or that one of my grandchildren doesn't have to have a tooth pulled out of her barefoot. If she does, I'll tell her about when her granddaddy was in 1st grade and he came home from school and told his mama, "I have a tooth in my ear." She thought, Silly boy and ignored him for a while, but concern built in her. She decided to take him to old Dr. Wooley in Memphis, Tennessee. Dr. Wooley said, "Mrs. Conner, there's a tooth in his ear." Evidently, he lost his tooth at school, got bored, and dropped it in his ear.

Reckon Tooth Fairy takes teeth from ears? Maybe I should write her a letter and find out. I have evidence that she's a pretty good correspondent. 

Because I Said So

In this era of political correctness, tolerance, and “Blurred Lines,” boundaries are disappearing. Distinct black and white blend to a murky grey. More and more, we make our own Truth these days.

But not at my house.

At my house, certain long-standing, non-negotiable, hard-and-fast rules exist and must not be broken.

At my house, we attempt to have gratitude in our hearts every day of the year, and we do not listen to Christmas music until the day after Thanksgiving. We devour it for the season, promptly pack it away before school returns to session, and do not pull it out again for 10.5 months. (Wiggle room exists for choir or band practice, but we are not to enjoy it.)

My mama’s rule was No Cheering in the Kitchen. She did not care that the beautiful plate glass window showed a brilliant reflection of a perfect hurky.

Another Conner canon states The Book Must Be Read before the Movie Is Watched and/or Series Are to Be Consumed in Order. My friend Jordan is a willy-nilly book reader/movie watcher. She WATCHED HP and the Goblet of Fire before she ever READ HP and the Sorcerer’s Stone. This is unacceptable behavior. One comes before 2; a comes before b; doe comes before re. (At times I struggle to fathom how I can befriend someone with such a blatant disregard for natural order.)

Fried chicken must be eaten at family reunions and washed down with sweet tea. (I believe this to be a universal truth.)

At the lake, you don’t wear makeup. Or, you don’t wear makeup at the lake. (Either rule is acceptable.)

When Jeremy showed up for a funeral with a five-oclock shadow (probably more of about a 4:30 one), Starla decided then and there, “If you’re wearing a tie, you have to shave.” These are words to live by.

When I told Little Granny that the ultrasound detected TWO heartbeats, she wisely instructed, “You know their names have to rhyme.” I am a rule follower most of the time, but I didn’t obey this one. I just wasn’t sure who was going to enforce it. However, I did look over my shoulder for a while and whisper my newborns' names when in public, because you never know who is eavesdropping in the next booth at Larry’s BBQ.

I have a new decree that needs to have the kinks worked out. It is called No Drumming until You Are Dressed. Every morning, the Boy gets out of the shower, puts on his clothes, and begins to drum on every imaginable surface. I holler, “No drumming until you are dressed!” He replies, “I am dressed!” While his hair is not combed nor his teeth brushed, he is technically dressed. I haven’t given up on the wording of this mandate yet, because No Drumming until You Are Ready to Walk Out the Door and Your Backpack Is Packed Up Like It Should Have Been Done Last Night When I Told You To Do It just isn’t catchy.

I don’t care if you wear white after Labor Day, but at my house, you are not allowed to talk smack about High School Musical; you will help at Vacation Bible School; and you had better kiss your mama goodnight.

Period.

I Lost My Nook

I lost my Nook.

I searched in every cranny and crook

With intensity building until I shook.

“Why can’t I just read a hard-copy book?!!!”

I misplaced a library! My heart rate quickens.

Now I’ll not know how the plot thickens.

My body aches and sickens—

“Where the dickens is my Dickens?!”

Ava’s Man by Rick Bragg,

The Brothers’ Grimm and a scary old hag, 

Fried Green Tomatoes by Fannie Flagg,

Count Olaf is a drag. 

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Olive Ann Burns, Cold Sassy Tree 

Jane Austen and the Sisters Bronte 

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

Like Sherlock Holmes, I did hunt it.

This is no fun! It

Made me yell, “Dadgummit!
How will I know who dunnit?!”

Mad as the Hatter I did grow

On my search for Victor Hugo.

My friends were as lost as Robinson Crusoe.

“Never was a story of more woe.”

Here and there, I did look

For Peter Pan and Captain Hook.

Until a big, deep breath I took

And the pageless search, I forsook.

Piglet, Pooh, and Eeyore

Wilbur’s squeal and Aslan’s roar

Harry Potter and Dumbledore

“Quoth the raven, ‘Nevermore.’”

Little Women and Little Men

Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With the Wind

Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn

I will never see again.

On the porch and in my bed,

So many books I have not read.

I guess I’ll learn to knit instead.

“Here it is,” is what Chuck said.

“Oh, thanks. I was looking for that.”