By Shelby Cain
Kids are good. They’re born that way. I recently had the pleasure of witnessing shining examples of this fact. It started when Six lost a tooth. She’s lost a few before, so while we still gave a “yahoo!” and marvelled at the jagged treasure she clutched in her palm, the fanfare had definitely been dialled down from the previous four. Over dinner we casually discussed the expectation of a special winged visitor that night, but soon glossed over that topic and moved on to other ones. My husband and I were noting the economic difficulties people are facing after such a tricky winter. You forget your kids are always listening. Later, as I kissed Six goodnight, I asked if she put the tooth under her pillow. “Of course, Mommy. Can the tooth fairy read?” “Definitely honey. Goodnight.” At the time I wasn’t sure why she was asking me this, and by that hour of the day I’m usually out of probing questions, so I let it go. Fast-forward a few hours and I was creeping into her room to make the unconscious exchange. I had two toonies I’d scrounged out of the laundry room in my hand. As I swept under her pillow, careful not to disturb her angelic slumber, I was surprised by what I found. There was a piece of paper, a handful of small change, and the tooth. I gathered them all up, deposited my reward money, and walked into the hall to cast some light on my discovery. I unfolded the note, and translated the phonetically proper writing into English. It said “Heh tooth ferry. I em gonna gif yoo sum munney.” I held the change in my hand, my heart bubbling over in my chest. I guess she thought the tooth fairy had a rough winter too. The second example came when we were out of town this weekend. As a treat for being such good passengers the girls got to pick a toy at the store. If you’ve ever witnessed a four and six-year-old in a giant toy store trying to pick just one thing, then you know what I mean when I say ‘trial in patience.’ They choose. And re-choose. It’s quite an ordeal. After several long hours — at least, that’s what it felt like — we were at the cash register, about to pay. Suddenly, Four got a look of sheer panic in her eye. “Mommy! We have to go back! I got carried away and I forgot to buy something for cousin!” We were visiting our young cousin, who is too young to notice a gift. After attempting to explain this, we ended up getting out of the line, drying tears, and picking something for cousin. I just hope I don’t screw them up.