A lost tooth.

It’s a significant milestone, especially a child’s first lost tooth. My 5-year-old’s smile is different now, and he’s telling everyone he’s reached ‘big boy’ status.

But, no drama involved. No tying a string around it and attaching it to a door. No bribing in order to try my hand at twisting the tiny thing out. None of that. He simply pointed out that it was wobbly about a week ago, then last night as I tucked him into bed, he noticed he was minus a pearly white.

We searched around a bit, but nothing, which means he likely swallowed it with a mouth full of meatloaf.

Most kids would be excited at the thought of leaving something they no longer have any use for in exchange for some money from the good ol’ tooth fairy.

Not my son.

He told me no way, no how was some fairy with wings coming into his room while he slept. He has a point, right? We lock up every night, set the house alarm, and then allow some stranger to stick her grubby hands under our pillows?

The concept didn’t sit well with Hayden, and I can’t blame him. Something about it creeped him out and he wasn’t about to negotiate. So, last night I was specifically directed to fuhgetaboutit. He ‘didn’t need the money.’

Oooooookay. Who says that?

How bout your dresser? ‘Nope, I don’t want her in here,’ he would say.

Finally, my determined little guy settled on letting me leave a note for the tooth fairy under my pillow, if she had to come at all. It was obvious he was doing this more for me than for himself, but hey, I’m not too proud to work a deal. This morning, Hayden woke to find a little something to acknowledge the occasion of his new holey grin, then realized the worst.

He had come to our bed in the night, which means the tooth fairy was inches away while he slept.

And I’m happy to report…he survived.