There’s lots with which La struggles in the world of motherhood. Patience? A virtue in other people’s homes, sure, but an overrated one in mine. Pearls of wisdom los loin fruits will quote to their own future loinies? Does “Am I just WHITE NOISE?” count?
So much room for improvement.
One of the few areas in which La’ve excelled, though, is Perpetuation of the Myths of Magical Gift-Giving Creatures. You know, standard stuff — Santa, Easter Bunny and Tooth Woman.
Until this week.
Normally I’m good at keeping my multiple-mythical-creature personalities in good order. I’m a high-functioning Sybil, generally getting by without the need for anti-psychotic medication, intensive psychotherapy or questionable eyewear.
But this week it all got out of whack, and it started when we found an unexpected orphan toothy-peg in the Female Junior Cost Centre’s bedroom while clutter-busting.
Obviously this fang had been put out for Fairy collection at some point, and replaced with adequate gold-coloured monetary compensation. However, Seriousimo — nowt but a hulking marshmallow of a man, brimful of memories of sleepless nights spent rubbing Bonjela on tiny bruised, purple gums — always insists we keep each peg. I know. GROSS. So I nod dutifully, then fling it once he’s turned his gaze back to his legal briefs.
Obviously La failed to dispose of one, and somehow it found its way back into the Female JCC’s room. She chose to believe it was one she forgot to glass up and put out for collection (as if that would be likely!), so we rectified that Sunday night.
Maybe because this tooth found its way into a water-filled glass not in the usual way — i.e. frenetic wriggling, then tears, then blood, followed by a beaming, gappy smile and hysterical excitement — La forgot completely its existence.
And has continued to do so for FOUR NIGHTS RUNNING.
Female JCC is so disillusioned, gallumphing around the house, shoulders stooped, rose-coloured specs firmly in their case. “Why hasn’t she come?” she intones dolefully. La recommends the scripting of an explanatory note, which JCC duly does on the second coinless morning. Two more mornings in, and still no lira.
Gods damn me!
Each night, La remembers at some point early on the need to effect the fang/coin currency swap. I go to write Laself a note, then become paranoid Female JCC will find said note in the morning and all belief in mythical creatures will be ov-ah. (Curses and damnation! Whose bright idea was it that the child should learn to read, FFS?) So no note happens.
But this morning, La was whacked in the head by the genius stick! Have asked Seriousimo’s lovely PA to handwrite the following:
Dear Female JCC
I’m sorry I’m a bit late visiting you this time.
I was held up in Finland, where a few boys have been eating too many lollipops (‘tikkukaramelli’). Seven of them had to go to the dentist and have a few teeth extracted, so there were piles and piles of teeth for me to collect! They were big Finnish fellow teeth, and I’m only tiny, so they really slowed me down.
And – silly me – the only money I had on me was Swiss Francs. I didn’t think boys in Finland would appreciate Swiss Francs. So I had to whiz back to the Euro Fairy Bank (kind of like Gringott’s) to get some Euros. I was exhausted!
Anyhow, enjoy your lovely Australian money and don’t use it to buy tikkukaramelli. I can’t wait to see you sound asleep again very soon.
Lots of love
Phew! In manner of James Bond, childhood innocence can die another day x