Missing

Sometimes I feel very alone. This occurs especially upon entering the bathroom and getting a great waft of au d’urine. Being the only member of my household that sits down to pee (and that regularly cleans the bathroom for that matter) I am also the only person who has little to no chance of missing the toilet when I do so.

My eldest son will be five next month. He is very grown up. He can stand up to pee though he misses frequently, and is now missing a tooth. A couple of weeks ago he noticed a loose tooth in his mouth. He and his father have been regularly working on that loose tooth since. Two days ago it popped out. As a child, I wondered what the tooth fairy did with all those disgusting little teeth and where she got her cash. (The conversation at lunch today did revolve around whether the tooth fairy is indeed male or female. It was proposed that since she wears tights, her gender is clear. I countered that perhaps by wearing tights, his gender may be all too clear).

The price of a tooth has apparently increased since I was a child. My husband and I recall receiving in the neighborhood of $.25 to $.50 per tooth. A friend of Ethan’s now regularly receives $5. The tooth fairy in our household is not quite so generous. Is it the same as with Santa, do you receive more if you’ve been good? The tooth fairy left Ethan a whole dollar. Which, as my husband points out is a hefty inflation rate of 400% in 25 years. By the way, I now know what the tooth fairy does with the disgusting little teeth—(all you baby-book and scrap booking fanatics out there cover your eyes) he chucks them out in the forest where there will be no chance of discovering them in the garbage.

I was in the grocery store late in the evening last week. It’s the perfect time to shop-no kids, few shoppers. Problem was, I had to pee. So, for perhaps the first time in months, I got to go to the bathroom alone. Very alone. As I sat in the stall, my mind was free to notice things other than what disgusting thing my child was touching and whether or not he was trying to crawl under the stall door to say howdy to the neighbors. It was then that I noticed a large pregnancy test box in the garbage (I think they make them 10 times the size of the product to discourage, though apparently fruitlessly, shoplifters). I leaned over, curious if I could see the actual test results. It was then that I noticed the empty package of condoms underneath the test box. I can only assume the results were negative and that perhaps the shoplifter learned something (though not very much apparently) from the whole ordeal. I imagine there will be something missing from the store’s inventory this week. I could tell them where to find it, but I don’t suppose they want it back. Perhaps they should take a lesson from the stores in the greater Denver area. But that is another post entirely—I promise to share that one soon. It’s a doozy.