It's just after 9:00 am on Saturday morning. I'm still in bed, sleeping quite nicely except for the strange dream where I'm holding a meeting - in my underwear. It's not often I get to sleep in and the fact that it's not even Mother's Day or my birthday makes it even more pleasurable. I so rudely get awakened by my cell phone vibrating on the night stand. It's "Home" calling. Okay, that's odd. I think it might be my oldest who often is too lazy to walk across the house to ask me something. No, it's the husband.
I answer, "Hello" with a quizzical, furrowed brow, slightly peeved.
Husband says, "Hey, um....." then silence. A few seconds later, "Did you hear me?"
"No" I reply, now starting to feel even further peeved about my underwear dream getting disrupted. After all, I knew it was a dream and these dreams have a reason, right?
Next, husband says, "...um, ah, someone..." [insert phone rustling sounds here].
Now I'm sitting up, straining to hear what on earth could be so important that husband had to call me and now is trying to communicate so secretively. After a little more time of phone rustling sounds, in hushed whispers I hear "Cath, the tooth fairy. Did he come last night?"
"Oh SHIT!" comes out of my mouth with the associated I-fucked-up rush of adrenaline. Husband says, "You need to do something quick! I have Henry out here with me." I grab a dollar out of my jeans pocket next to my bed. A paper dollar is not quite up to my standards for such a momentous occasions. I would have preferred a sacajawea to make it more special, but time was of the essence. I rush out of my bedroom just in time to see Henry walking out of his, with his tooth in hand.
I put the dollar under his pillow anyway thinking there has to be some way to save this situation. Maybe I can fake him out. He can find the dollar and we can make some excuse as to why the tooth fairy failed to take it. So I say, "Honey, are you sure you didn't see anything?" in my feeble attempt to play this off.
Husband immediately replies, "No, the tooth fairy didn't come. He still has his tooth." Ah yes, you really can't ignore the obvious. Duh. Instead, husband comes up with his own answer, "It must be because you stayed up too late last night Henry." This is true - he was up to almost 11:00 pm - that's late for a six-year-old. I turn and rush back to his room and snag the dollar back. Damn. I am so lame.
I need to do better than this. I keep noticing instances like this. Why? I don't know. I can make a million excuses, but in the end, they are simply excuses. I just need to do better than this.