Rookie Tooth Fairy

It's not easy being the tooth fairy. Not that I am the tooth fairy. I'm not trying to wreck this for anyone. I'm just saying that it's probably hard to be the tooth fairy. Because I couldn't help but notice that last night the tooth fairy remembered to leave Savannah (who lost a front tooth) a few coins under her pillow, but said fairy forgot to take the envelope containing the lost tooth back home with him. I mean, her. I'm not a fairy. Leave me alone.

So the tooth fairy, after slipping the envelope from under Savannah's pillow and laying it on the nightstand to free up two hands to maneuver the coinage beneath Savannah's sleeping head (this is all, of course, conjecture -- I mean, I wasn't there or anything), forgot to retrieve it on the way back out through the chimney. Or under the door. Or through the heating vents. I really don't know how the tooth fairy gets in and out. Electrical outlets? Maybe she's made of rubber.

Savannah exulted in her good fortune this morning. "The tooth fairy gave me money and left my tooth for me!" she gushed.

"I did? I mean, she did? Crumb! I mean, she must've been distracted. New chick, maybe. Look, aren't you supposed to be eating breakfast or something?"

This is Savannah's third lost tooth, and she's only in kindergarten. I always wondered what it would be like to have a child prodigy, and now I know. It's awesome. Her teeth are flying out left and right, and I just feel really proud to have contributed half the genes that are making it happen. I see all those other kids, lumbering around with all those teeth, and I can't help but think how they look like eels. Not, as in, long and snakey, just, as in, having a lot of teeth. Because, see, I'm just saying, eels have a lot of teeth and Savannah's classmates have a lot of teeth. But that's really the only similarity between the other kids and eels. I'm just burying myself further here, aren't I.

Look, aren't you supposed to be eating breakfast or something?