We have never been a completely skeptical family. In fact, half of us err on the side of laughable gullibility.
Of course, the other half exists of die-hard skeptics, which makes for an interesting family dynamic. Even something as simple as “Hey, it’s snowing outside,” invites a debate worth of Socrates and Plato.
[Gullible one] “Hey, it’s snowing outside!”
[Skeptic] “No, it’s not.”
[Gullible one] “Um, yeah, it is.”
[Skeptic] “You said that last time, and it really wasn’t. It was sleeting.
[Gullible one] “Is there a difference?”
[Skeptic, after slight hesitation] “No. None at all. It’s all the same. Hailing, raining, snowing, sleeting…same dif. In fact, if it were to pour blue baby dinosaurs, the weather people would still label it under heavy rain.”
[Gullible one, gullibly] “Really?”
[Skeptic, no hesitation whatsoever] “Absolutely.”
We have no idea why the ratio scale of the gullible to skeptics is slowly starting to shift.
However, the entire family unites on one common topic – myths. There is no Santa Claus (sorry, kids) and definitely, beyond a doubt, positively never will be…a Tooth Fairy.
Don’t get me wrong – we aren’t entirely jaded. We cede the possibility of Barney (who can honestly ignore a large, purple, freaky, dancing dinosaur) and confess to outlandish imaginations…but a Tooth Fairy?
We’d like to believe in her, we really would. But unfortunately, she’s been frightfully inconsistent, leaving some doubts about her reliability.
First of all, she’s never on time. On one occasion, one unnamed unfortunate waited three weeks for her to show up. Three weeks of feeling hopefully under their pillow, only to be cruelly disappointed, three weeks of shaking said pillow, hoping against hope it would clink, three weeks of searching under my bed…
Where were we? Oh yes. Tooth Fairy. Okay, she’s always late, but secondly…I thought she was supposed to be an ethereal little lady.
Puh-lease. Our Tooth Fairy blunders into doors, trips over dirty clothes, repressing a volatile “Doggone it!” and careens into our pillows. She then creeps out stealthily, cackling over yet another successful reconnaissance mission.
Last but most definitely not least, she leaves the tooth. Now to be fair, there were requests in the past that the tooth be left. After all, ten years in one’s mouth is a long time, and one might conceivably miss the chompy little rascal. However, the skeptics among us believe that if even the Tooth Fairy doesn’t want the tooth…we’ve got problems. It’s in her stinkin’ job description.
These three reasons are probably what led to this:
Take notice, Tooth Fairy.