Midnight Cowboy

I have my alarm set for 3am. But as a 51yo adult male, I get up at around midnight anyway. (Sigh.) Seems as good a time as any. There should be some significant amount of REM happening…

I take my phone and journey down the hall to my daughter’s room. I turn on the flashlight and point it to the floor. It illuminates enough that I can see Ella on the right side of her bed with the majority of her pillow exposed. This is going to be easy.

As I step to the left side of her bed, I notice the iPod clock on her dresser is off. That is, it’s silent. Usually Ella plays a version of Claire de Lune on repeat. Also the heat in the house happens to be on an off cycle — there is no white-noise whoosh of air. So everything is especially silent.

On the left side of Ella’s bed stands Tiger. Tiger is a large FAO Shwarz stuffed tiger, easily the size of a Husky. It’s literally standing guard. Unbeknownst to me, Ella has it booby-trapped. As I gently move Tiger over to the window so I can get by, one of the horse books she’s reading falls and crashes to the floor.

THUMP-KA-BAM!

I freeze as Ella stirs. But she stays on the right side of her bed and turns back toward the door. Phew…

I step past Tiger. But Ella has it double booby-trapped because whatever I just did, the witch hat it’s wearing falls to the floor. It’s not book loud, but the hat is surprisingly raucous. It’s hat loud. Once more, Ella stirs, but in stepping past Tiger I’m now only a foot from her face. I suspend all movement again as I hover above her. I am NOT wearing my invisibility cloak. If she wakes up right now, if she opens her eyes right now, she will be traumatized for life.

‘I woke up and my father was standing over me watching me sleep, Dr Lowenstein*. He was only a foot from my face. Why? Why was he just standing there staring at me? It was the creepiest thing. I just want to forget.’

I have the thought that maybe the flashlight is too bright. But I can’t shut it off from where I’m standing and how I’m positioned, so I press it against my leg. My thigh glows red as I continue to hold my breath. Ella turns to the right again. Phew…

I crouch low and slide my hand along the sheets under her pillow. (Did Phoebe just clean these? Everything’s so crisp. And LOUD.) My fingers feel their way to the edge of a Ziploc bag. That’s one thing we have going for us. Phoebe and I explained to Ella that the Tooth Fairy prefers bagged teeth rather than loose because it helps with the bookkeeping when she gets back to the office. What we should have done is explain that the Tooth Fairy prefers all teeth in plastic bags AND having those bags placed outside the bedroom door.

Note to self: Hmmm, maybe we can try that with Kyle.

I pull the bag out and place it on the nightstand. Then I reach into my pocket and take out the money. It’s a two dollar bill. I went to the bank months ago and keep a few on hand for just such an occasion. The dad joke is built in.

’The tooth fairy left you a two dollar bill? Huh, I guess she thinks it’s a twoth dollar bill. TOOTH dollar bill. See what I did there, sweetie? Tooth dollar bill?’

Because it’s from the bank, it’s FRESH. Which means it’s crispy. And LOUD. (For fuck sake, why is everything so loud tonight?) I unfold it as slowly and quietly as I can. I don’t smooth it out. I ain’t got time for that. The pillow will smooth it out. Also, I don’t care if it’s not smooth. I just need to get it under the pillow and leave.

As I start to slide my hand under the pillow again, I hear a noise from next door. A LOUD noise.

This evening was Purim — a Jewish holiday, which like any Jewish holiday, is about someone trying to oppress the Jews and the Jews overcoming that oppression. Anyway, Purim is kid-focused with costumes and games. At the temple tonight Kyle won some sort of liquid timer toy that’s filled with water, but there’s some kind of denser liquid that drips down the center. I don’t know what you call this kind of thing, but it’s cylindrical has some heft to it. Naturally, Kyle needed to sleep with it. And just as I’m sliding my hand under the pillow to leave some new currency in exchange for an old upper right cuspid, he drops it. He drops it onto the wood floor.

BANG!

Even though Kyle is next door, it sounds like he drops it in Ella’s room. I listen to it roll. And roll and roll.

FOR FUCK SAKE, I’M WORKING HERE! WHY IS 12:30AM THE LOUDEST HOUR OF THE DAY?! WHAT THE HELL, MAN?!

It doesn’t seem to bother Ella, though. She remains asleep. Doesn’t even stir.

I guess Kyle’s toy makes it to the rug because it stops. Which means I can breathe again and continue my fairy work. Personally, I like to get the money under the pillow right in the middle. But tonight I’m fine to leave it somewhere within the first third.

As I get up to leave, I realize I don’t have the tooth. It’s still on her nightstand. I’m already feeling around on the floor for my phone, which I had set down so I wasn’t constantly pressing it against my leg. Now I’m also feeling around for the bag. Ewww, is that a balled up tissue?

I find the bag, I find my phone (which beams out a flash of light before I’m able to turn it off causing Nola to actually turn to the left), and then I slowly very slowly reverse myself out of there. I’m careful to reposition Tiger next to the bed, and replace the witch hat on its head. But I leave the booby-trapped book on the floor as collateral damage.

I trek back to our bedroom, but I stop at my closet to deposit the tooth. I have a place where I keep all the teeth.

Note to self: Phoebe and I need to figure out Ella’s allowance because she seems to be making a majority of her earnings through discarded teeth.

Note to self: I should probably do something with all the teeth.

Note to self: A necklace would be weird, right?

I slide into bed all slow and quiet so as to not wake Phoebe. I stare up at the ceiling. I’m amped that I succeeded. I did it. I have kept the illusion of fairies entering our home in the middle of the night looking for teeth; as if they are hapless spirits drawn to empty sockets like sharks to chum. But I’m a little too amped because I stare at the ceiling for the next two and half hours.

It’s going to be a long day.

Full disclosure: Turns out, as seen this morning, Ella had Tiger triple booby-trapped with an iPad. Thankfully I didn’t trip that trap.

Fuller disclosure: “Wow, sweetie, a two dollar bill? That’s pretty cool. I guess that’s a twoth dollar bill, huh? Get it. TOOTH dollar bill?”

Fullest disclosure: “Da-AD!” (With accompanying eye-roll.)

Bonus anecdote: After putting down the kids, and before my dental walkabout, Phoebe and I watched our stories on the Hulu. I just recently got a new suitcase and my feeds are FULL of suitcase ads. Not sure it’s related, but on the Hulu we’ve been inundated with commercials for Away. It seems like a nice piece of luggage — it made my consideration set — but I’m a soft-side guy. I like the flexibility. Anyway, after our third time seeing it…

Phoebe: I wish these would just go Away.

Steve:

Phoebe:

Steve: Well played, sweetheart. Well played.

*Simpsons reference.**

** Which is a reference to Prince of Tides.