My Tooth Fairy Impression...

Did you know the tooth fairy needs help sometimes?

Well she does. Shame on you. You should have known that. <Tuts>

And when the tooth fairy needs help Team Parent (yay!) step in. It's the least we can we do.

We take on all the risk and funding (we what?) and make sure the job gets done.

Like the hard working, grown up, professionals we are...

Night, night, my lover!

Mrs. Amazing: 'Night muppet'

Pardon?

Mrs. Amazing: 'Night darling'

Oh... Night!...

<Both just drifting off>

[Silence in the house]

<Both sit bolt upright> TOOTH FAIRY!

Teeth falling out of your kids mouth is really weird.

I know kids are cute and all that. So it's kind of OK. But really it's pretty freaky.

Did you know you get born with your adult teeth in your skull-mouth?

Then as you get older. Six-ish for Boy10. The adult teeth suddenly decide it is their time, their moment in the saliva, and they push the baby teeth out. To their deaths obvs, and then take over. Which is why the baby teeth fall out. The adult ones kill them.

Weird huh!

(This is what children have in their heads. True story

(Kill it!... Kill it fire!)

Boy10 is running out of baby teeth.

Dentist said so. Which is cool. They are falling out due to natural causes. Not because of his daily sugar lick. Natural causes. Violent adult teeth. Plus Boy10 is getting older.

The huge holes in his toothy smile are starting to be filled in. With big teeth. Which is a bonus for photos 'spose.

And Boy10’s time and delight in making Mrs. Amazing squirm as he twists and pulls on his loose teeth is running out. Ha ha. #SoProud.

My boy's getting all grown up and stuff.

<Doesn't cry> <Heads off to chop stuff and hit it with hammers>

Twenty baby teeth.

Apparently everyone gets twenty visits from the tooth fairy for their baby teeth. If you're lucky and get punched in the face, maybe twenty one.

But that twenty is assuming the tooth isn't lost, stolen, sold for Pokeman cards, isn’t still stuck in the toffee that ripped it out, or wasn't sadly swallowed.

So if you are wondering how much money the tooth fairy is likely to be leaving your darling child. Remember it's that times twenty.

And don't (do not) underestimate the frowns from me, I'll come find you you may get in the playground when your child proudly declares that the tooth fairy left them a pony £5 note...

Boy6: 'Daddy why did I only get £1?'

<Mouths to 'Generous' parent> I will kill you We all hate you right now!

<Turns to Boy6> ... well... because whilst some people value money above all other things...

<Gives frowny, head shaking double eyebrow, not us, look>

Some other people, know that it's the free things that are worth the most.

Boy6: '...'

Boy6: 'Not me. I prefer the cash'

<Checks pockets> I've thirteen pence, old gum, and a voucher for thruppence off a burger

Boy6: 'Thank you' <Takes it all>

<Is gutted about the burger voucher>

Anyhoo...

It was after midnight.

I was tired out. Proper, so tired out that you have to go to bed even later, because you're so tired, and just getting up and going to bed is tiring. I had also been to ninja training class and moving was proving quite impossible.

I had laid for ages in the bath. Planning and plotting exiting the bath and making it the two, maybe, three meters, from the bath to Team Parent (yay!)'s bed.

Eventually I am forced out by uber cold bath water.

Now tired and very cold.

I collapse into bed and in a moment of surprising memory and clarity, for me.

I remember Boy10 saying his tooth had fallen out six hours before. In the very brief window I had this evening to talk to him and he had shown me his missing tooth.

BOOM! Six hours later, past midnight I totally remembered it.

But knowing Mrs. Amazing would never forget something as important as a tooth fairy.

I asked her if helping the tooth fairy had gone well...

[From beneath pillows]

Mrs. Amazing: 'OH MOD! Mi mavn't mone mit!'

Ooooo... you best do it now then... <Lies down ready to sleep like a tired out log>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Moo mo mit!'

I always wake him up when I do it! Don't make me do it!

Mrs. Amazing: 'SNORE SNORE SNORE'

...

You know... saying snore out loud actually proves

Mrs. Amazing: 'SNORE SNORE SNORE'

... whatever… FINE! I'll do it...

Mrs. Amazing: 'Snorrrrre snoorrrreeee good luck snooore'

<Gives Mrs. Amazing frowny look as I pull on Star Wars joggers>

In the second I leave my own bedroom.

My mind starts working through what needs to be done. The highs and lows. And where my concerns are.

I have immediate problems…

1) I have no money on me at all.

Nadda. I rarely have cash on me now. Which is fine by me except for two occasions. Now obvs. And when I am taking Miss6 swimming and I don't have change for the lockers. But that's also normally fine as most places will let you buy a quid in change with your swimming.

Even my arch nemesis, the scottish cow-bag woman from my local leisure center. Even she, satan's first wife, now has to agree to handing over a quid to me. ...I digress.

I have no pound for Boy10.

(Would a pound of potatoes do?

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Nope. And put those back’

Sure… <Runs>)

2) All the floors in our house squeak.

Especially late at night when I am sneaking. Then it's as if the original architect placed fog horns every few inches of floor boards. But repeating ones. I swear some creaks 'go off' even when I’m nowhere near.

It takes all my ninja skills just to get down the hall without sounding like an elephant's clog dancing class.

3) We don't know the tooth is.

O’PLUCK. This is quite a big problem. As the last tooth. Which the tooth fairy collected herself, we didn't have to help or pay that time.

Well that tooth Boy10 had placed on top of his alarm clock, and it was only blind luck that the tooth fairy found it. That and her innate sense of teeth detection obvs.

So where on earth in his room had Boy10 put this tooth? With a bit of luck, a strong head wind, and fresh horse, I was going to find the tooth under his pillow.

Where which is where Team Parent (yay!) have always said pushed fallen teeth should be placed.

4) It’ll be right in the middle.

If Boy10 has put his tooth under pillow. Then he would have put it exactly in the middle of the pillow. RIGHT under his head. Just to really test the tooth fairy or her helpers. Whoever they may be, this cold, exhausting, late night.

<Grumbles>

5) The tooth fairy always leaves glitter.

Well she’s a fairy. Of course she leaves glitter behind her. If Team Parent (yay!) are helping out then we try our best to mimic what she would do. And luckily Mrs. Amazing always knows where some glitter is. Or she just has on her, magically.

Sadly Mrs. Amazing is now utterly fast asleep. And whilst my knowledge of where glitter is kept is low.

There’s always hope.

So with five clear problems to solve.

I leap into action and stood in the hall for a bit. Being undecided. Getting cold.

Then I went and double checked my trousers for a quid. Still nope. 7 pence only.

Which would work fine on Miss6 and BabyBoy3, as they are shinny. And that's all those two want. Boy10 not so much. He is no longer fooled by shiny things.

He wants wonga.

Then a brain wave hit me.

Ow. The swimming bag! Downstairs is the bag me and Miss6 always take swimming with us. That has her goggles in, some shampoo, a bastard useless comb that is only strong enough to move my arm hairs about.

AND TADADADADTAAAAA a pound we keep in the bag for the lockers.

Which I've realised I took and haven't replaced yet. Crap!

<Runs off to replace the pound mi…..d typing>

One problem down.

Four to go. The squeaky floors I am just going to have to do my best about.

Move slowly. Like a ninja.

CREEEEEEAKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

... be stealthy...

CREEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

... move like the badger Cat...

CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

... or just hope they don't wake.

The glitter I search for.

And amazingly find! Amazing! But as I tip a little into my hand. I spill it. And then have to clear it up. Which isn't easy. And really I just want to leave it.

But then Boy10 may notice the glitter mess. Put two and two together. AND BOOM! Childhood ruined.

Grumbling I sweep up a little bit of glitter.

(Mrs. Amazing: ‘Where’s Miss6?’

No idea, haven’t seen her for a while?

Last I saw of her, she took some pens, some pipe cleaners and glitter up her room…

But that two hours ago...

Mrs. Amazing: ‘WHAT??? OH NO!!!’

<Both run, are way too late>

As for the tooth's location.

I sneak into Boy10's room with my phone, and use it's lovely glow to check a few places.

CREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK-KKKK-KKKKKK-KKKKKKKKKK

Nothing. Darn it.

I'll have to assume he has put it under his pillow.

And the final problem.

Boy10's head is exactly in the middle of the pillow. Exactly on top of where he may have put the tooth. Of course he's got two pillows tonight. So I've got double checking to do.

OMFB! I wish Mrs. Amazing was doing this and I was still in bed fast asleep.

If Boy10 wakes Mrs. Amazing is an expert at distracting Boy10 and then still managing to deliver the payload.

Me. I'm gonna panic. Shove the coin up his nose, fall off the bed, and get a pillow stuck on my head.

I am not confident.

After much assessing.

Planning and thinking about how best to do this. With only one hand. As the other has glitter in it. I try to very stealthily sneak my hand under Boy10's pillow without waking him.

And obv. as I am sure you have already guessed. It is not possible.

You cannot check for something under someone's head, without moving their head. Maybe with some more time and a little inflatable balloon. You could.

But I'm cold and completely out of little inflatable balloons. I try again on the other side.

It goes worse somehow. As Boy10 sleep moans and moves a little. Not away from the centre of the pillow. Obvs. Just a wriggle about.

Then like a rabbit in the headlights.

The worst happens. I am stood with my hand half under his pillow. Coin in the searching hand. Glitter in the other. Praying that Boy10 doesn't open his eyes.

But yeah, come on, you know. You know what happens next.

Say it with me... Boy10 opened his eyes!

CRAP-O-SMEG!

What did I do?

Well I did what any parent in that situation should do. Well maybe not any. I did what a parent like me would do in that situation.

I gave Boy10 a few moments of utterly, confusing, head-moving about sensations that may terrify and disorientate him for the rest of the night.

I panicked took a calculated risk.

I grab one side of Boy10’s pillow and yank it up.

So Boy10's head is forced to roll away. Then hand with coin in it, reach in, and YES there's something there! But I am in the dark.

So I swop the coin for whatever is under the pillow. Drop the pillow down. A bit too quickly.

Boy10's head lurches back into the middle.

But I am not done.

I then grab the other side of the pillow and pull it up. Sending Boy10's head rolling the other way. Poor lad. Ha ha.

Now with hand with glitter in it free. I throw the glitter in. Let's hope it went somewhere near the coin. I'll never know. I drop the pillow and Boy10's head rolls back into the centre.

Boy10 is now probably confused and wondering what the hell is going on.

And what's the smeg is Dad doing in here?

Shoving what I found under his pillow into my jammies.

I give Boy10 a big hug and say it's OK. Just go back to sleep.

Boy10 is pretty confused and fluttered. No idea why. But really he is mostly asleep.

And in moments, with a bit of a hug, and head tap, closes his eyes once more.

I wish him good night.

And leave the room.

CREEEEEE-EEEEEE-EEEEEAAAAAKKKKKK

The moment I am sure I am safe. I check what it is I got from under his pillow. Thank Bacon and cake and chocolate. It's the tooth.

<Does victory dance>

(My quest is complete... <drops sword>

… I have returned victorious... <drops shield>

now... I can rest…

<Plays on phone for a bit first>)

I get back into my bed.

Pretty pumped. Really frikkin' proud of myself. Rushing really. YEAH!

Tooth fairy work done. I don't think Boy10 will ever know it was me.

YEAH!

Bursting to tell someone.

I nicely jostle see if Mrs. Amazing is awake to tell her the amazing news.

She isn't as excited as I am about it...

I did it! I got the tooth! TADA!

Mrs. Amazing: '... good... Zzzzz...'

YEAH! <Self high-fives> YEAH!

<Struggles to sleep for ages>

X

When Ten Years Have Got Behind You...

I find myself making a herbal cup of tea.

Redbush. No really I was. Because I know caffeine this late will keep me up.

I've picked my favourite mug from cupboard. My Pink Floyd - Dark side of the Moon - mug.

And as I get the tea bag out of the cupboard.

I sort of notice myself and stop.

What the hell has happened to me?

(Warning: May cause serious self reflection…

and evaluation of life choices, whilst drunk)

Firstly.

I am quite drunk. Not now as I type. But then.  

I had organised a night out with a Dad from Miss6's school.

And without anything else really to do whilst we got to know each other.

The pub was chosen...

Library?

OtherDad: <Shakes head>

Salad bar?

OtherDad: 'Yeah... but no...'

Good shout... The steak house?

OtherDad: 'They shut at nine. We'd have to go home. It's eight now...'

Hmmm... How about... ? Well...

OtherDad: 'What?'

Well I know it seems a bit strange, and maybe even unusual... But we could go to a pub!

OtherDad: 'Oooooo interesting...'

I seem to recall I used to frequent pubs when I was younger...

Before we had children...

OtherDad: 'You know what... I think I used to too!'

to too?

No way!!!

OtherDad: 'Yeah!'

Let's go! Have a sensible and grown up evening, discussing high brow thingys and culture and stuff!

OtherDad: 'So no football then?

OtherDad: 'Let's make it a one pint limit!'

Good idea!!!

[Four pints later]

[Last orders bell rings]

OtherDad: 'Going home shot?'

YES! <Stands with huge arm gestures>

We had a fun night.

And that's all you get to hear about that.

<Hic>

I manage to stagger home.

Finally get my keys in the lock and stumble in the door. Into complete darkness. Which does in some way explain why I had so much trouble lining up my tiny key to the tiny keyhole.

But why are all the lights off? It's late (post chucking-out time) so everyone else is asleep in bed. But normally Mrs. Amazing leaves a light on for me. (I do the same back).

And failing that we have a perpetual glow from nightlights scattered through the house.

They aren't glowing either.

The power is off.

Which could mean a power cut. But it’s a lot more likely to be the swine of a dish washer machine. Which has suddenly decided that it doesn't want to clean dishes and cutlery. And so instead is tripping the trip-switch five minutes into a wash.

I actually don't mind washing up. Years of K.P.ing (Kickarse Person Kitchen Porter) as a young man (I am, and was) mean I do not fear the sink.

But I hella hate having to empty dirty stuff from the dishwasher. That I had only just filled with. And then wash everything up by hand.

Why have the smegging machine?

I balance on a stool.

And by balance I mean wobble around really dangerously in the dark, on my own. Drunk. Reaching up for the main trip switch.

POoooW! Beep! Beep! [CD player starts up somewhere]

Lights back on.

And I'm glad I'm in the right house this time.

I go let Mrs. Amazing know I am home. And I am not a burglar.

Years back that would have meant finding Mrs. Amazing on the sofa watching a film. Maybe asleep.

Now a days I KNOW Mrs. Amazing will be in bed and asleep. It's past 101pm.

Unless of course one of the troubles is up and Mrs. Amazing is looking after them.

Then it all gets a bit awkward.

As turning up drunk to a calpol party is never good.

I let Mrs. Amazing know a good night was had by all.

Through operatic puppets. She is thrilled to be woken by this news.

In my spot in bed I find Miss6 totally zonked out. Making my side all Miss6 smelly. ew.

I go to pick her up. But at some point over the last few months. Miss6 has been stretched,  and now picking her up is difficult. As there's arms and legs all over the place.

Hitting doors, getting whacked on cupboards...

Shh shhh... no need to wake up... Daddy's got you...

[BANG]

Sorry...

[BANG]

Sorry same leg again

[BANG][BANG][BANG]

Miss6: 'Ow.'

Sorry... I'll be more careful...

[BANG]

... from ...

[BANG]

... now...

[BANG][BANG][BANG]

...on…

[BANG]

Miss6: ‘I’ll walk…’

[BANG]

(Like she’s been stretched? Like elastic? Hmmm…

<Crosses fingers really tightly for at least

one of them to have super powers>)

Next I check on BabyBoy3.

Last I saw of him. He had thrown all his bed sheets onto the floor. And decided to sleep on the floor. Where he will get cold and then wake up during the night.

Best move him off the floor now. Except he's not there. He's in his bed.

Mrs. Amazing must have moved him. Which is good news as I am not feeling uber stable at the moment and moving BabyBoy3 always seems to wake him.

BabyBoy3 snores away. In Buzz lightyear jammies. So hella cute.

Oh bacon I hope he sleeps in tomorrow.

So I can.

Poor Boy10 has a nasty cough.

And I hear him coughing away in her sleep. But he doesn't wake.

And I don't check on him either. As the cough has told me all I need to know.

He lives!

Then I've a choice.

I can either go straight to bed. As quickly as possible. And hope not to yip from the darkness and lying down. Which if I manage I've got a fair chance of being alert and awake tomorrow morning, ready for taking BabyBoy3 and Miss6 to school and nursery.

I just need to sleep immediately.

The other option is a bit more self indulgent.

I could put on the latest Red Dwarf (which I love) episode. Make some snacks. Drink lots of water. And then although I'd defo be knackered tomorrow.

I may not be hung over!

I flip a coin.

Drop it, lose it totally and whilst searching realise I’ve started making a sandwich and am missing the start of Red Dwarf. Which I must have just put on.

Decision made.

It's then.

I have my moment of ‘seeing’ myself. It's as I am making my herbal tea to go with my sandwich. That I somehow manage to look at myself.

But from the outside (yes quite drunk) like a out of body experience.

And no I didn’t die.

It’s hard to explain.

But I saw me. Doing what I was doing. And who I was.

Some part of me, probably a memory from a long time ago, didn’t like what it saw. It was pretty disgusted to be honest. It saw this old, safe, urghhhh, tired man, an adult, making his herbal tea. In his stupid Pink Floyd mug.

And that young memory really hated him.

Yeah. Weird I know.

I probably went for a wee next. As the next thing I remember was looking at myself in the mirror. It was pretty ghastly. I really looked.

I’ve learnt that my self image. The image I think I have, that everyone else sees. I think that me still looks about twenty five. And gets regular sleep.

The old bastard in the mirror, with huge panda eyes, frowning and glaring at me begs to differ.

<Swears at mirror>

<Is offended>

Sigh.

And yeah.

Right then I could of happily wandered off down the drunken blues path that night.

I’ve been there many times before. It’s not great to be honest. Kinda wrecks any sleep. It’s less fun. So instead I kept on staring at the mirror.

Start a staring competition.

Ironically.

Or ceramically if you prefer. As I am struggling to match my staring competitor, I’ve some Pink Floyd lyrics rattling round my head.

The song is about getting older, and madness. It’s called Time. I love it.

I suppose the lyrics are rattling about because of their aptness...

“And then one day you find ten years have got behind you,

No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun,

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking,

Racing around to come up behind you again,

The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,

Shorter of breath and one day closer to death”

Bugger!

That’s what’s bugging me. Ten years! I’ve a Boy10! And I’ve been Dadding for ten years!

I am sure that isn’t just a coincidence. I reckon those two things are connected.

<Gives self a golf clap>

I know for me It’s a mixture of things that bug me.

There’s the dreams that I didn’t make time for. I’m not quite where I wanted to be.

<Moves slightly to the right, is a lot happier>

I’m not quite who I wanted to be. Future me always had hair. Long glorious hair. And future me’s belly was considerably less jelly like?

<Considers belly issue whilst eating pie>

Right then those lyrics feels true.

Ten years have got behind me. They’ve pretty much flown by. And that sucks.

A life eighth gone. Super quick.

There’s not much I can do about it either. I’m ten years older. Suck it up.

My self image is now WAYYYYYY out from reality.

And I’ll deal with that. Denial.

It’s one of the funny things about kids.

For me anyway. I find I am so busy and tired. That it’s easy to forgot all the good things. The brilliant bits. The daily grind and rush just seem to help push them out of my head.

And in my moment of self reflection, alone and drunk. I know I need something to help out of the nose dive I seem to be running face first into.

But I have a plan.

To combat this situation I take a lot of pictures of my monkeys children. Just whenever I see something I like. Click click. And then I’m back in the room, engaged. Nothing fancy. Rarely poses. It’s a quick thing. And a bit of me knows that probably I will never come back to those photos ever again. As they are a bit crap.

But I’m really glad I don’t listen to myself. What?

As those photos can be very powerful.

Whenever I feel like ten years have got behind me. Scrolling through those photos reminds me of what I have actually been doing for the past ten years. Playing in the park, cooking cakes, LEGO, hide and seek with the worst hiders in the world, building train tracks, hospital visits, cakes, parties, Christmas, racing cars, bath times, tiny people falling asleep on me… etc… on and on!!! So much LIFE!!!

No wonder I look so… er… middle aged parental now a days.

(BabyBoy3 ran at me for a hug whilst I was trying to take his picture...)

(SEE!)

Every single out of focus picture.

Every eye right up to the lens shot. Every picture where they ran out of the frame before the camera clicked. They may look crappo. May be useless to everyone else. But for me they can really spark the memory of what we were doing. And what I’ve been over the last ten years.

And that’s hella important.

Because I need that.

When I feel I haven’t done anything ‘worthwhile’ for the last ten years. I’ve no best seller book. My album isn’t being pirated world wide. Where I live isn’t named after me. #TheDreams!

When all that sneaks up on me and attacks. I’ve got something to fight back.

Even if I can’t remember, my pictures show me I’ve been really busy doing brilliant stuff for the past ten years. That no one else could have possibly done...

<Points at Boy10>

<Points at Miss6>

<Points at BabyBoy3>

And luckily I got to do it all with her… <Points at Mrs. Amazing>

Mrs. Amazing: <Blows me a kiss> <Also has my wallet>

[Cat walks by, feeling left out]

X