Alan calls me into our room last night saying, "Come in here, Sage has made a discovery!" So I happily walk toward my room thinking that Sage has done something great--he's found a lost item or made an exciting intellectual breakthrough. I walk into the room to find Alan with a blank stare and Sage holding the small gray ring box that I use to save his teeth after 'The Tooth Fairy' spirits them away. With a sly smile and a sing song voice Sage says, "Mommy, I know your secret!"
Thoughts are flying through my head--How could I have been so stupid? Why didn't I hide them better? Wait a minute, they were under a false bottom of a gray ring box that was hidden under tons of junk in the bottom drawer of my bedside table. How did he find that? He's been riffling through my personal stuff, the little terrorist! Crap, how am I going to explain this, should I deny any knowledge of the box or should I tell him the truth? Hell To the NO! I am not going to outsmarted by a little 7 year old snooper. This Fairy will not be outed until I am damn well ready to be outed! This is WAR!!!!
So after going from shocked and speechless to angry, locked and loaded in 3 point 2 seconds, I tell him, "Those are not your teeth. They were my teeth when I was little that I saved." He counters, "But Mommy, there are 5 teeth in here and I have lost 5 teeth." Here's my brilliant comeback...wait for it, wait for it...."SO?!"
"Look Sage, I don't care how many teeth you've lost, those are my teeth. You can ask Grandma if you want and she will tell you that I saved some of my teeth in a gray box when I was little." (Note to self: Call my mom and get her on board with Operation Enduring Fairy.) Giving me a suspicious and reluctant stare, he turns starts walking away and muttering "I can't wait to tell my friends." Oh no he didn't! I was forced to pull out my last weapon and I called after him, "You know, boys who don't believe in The Tooth Fairy don't get any more money!"
Naturally my fury turns toward Alan. "Thanks for the blindside and how could you have let him go through my stuff?!" Alan sputters, "I didn't know what to do! I was in the closet I didn't know he was going through your drawers!" I say, "I guess we better watch where we hide stuff from now on." And I see the color drain from his face when he thinks about the contents of his bedside table, or more specifically 'The Naughty Drawer.' I can imagine the scene he is thinking---Daddy, what's this thing?...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. I suggest to him that maybe he should get a Naughty safe or bury the stuff in the back yard.
I know one thing, Santa and The Easter Bunny better watch their backs. Sage will be gunning for them. Alan and I have had our wake up call. We need better communication, better planning, and most importantly, better hiding places. From now on we must think 2 steps ahead of him at all times. This is serious. We have a clear and present danger, people--He's going to be 8 soon!