Flat Tires and the Tooth Fairy

Don't ask.
Okay, ask - but know it's been a long couple days...

Six year old DD lost her two front teeth this weekend. Actually, she didn't lose them so much as they were knocked out. But she did lose them in the sense that we don't know where they are. Follow me? No? Okay, here's how it went down.

DD is sick on Sunday - running a low grade fever. Fever of any variety transforms her into a monster of epic proportions. So she gets angry with her Dad, is running around on her TWIN bed, falls off, whacks her mouth and front tooth #1 is GONE. It was dangling - about to go anyway but upon whacking said mouth on side of bed frame - tooth is GONE. We can only assume she swallowed it.

Of course, at the first sight of blood, I hear, "Honnnnneeeeeeyyyyy! Come here and bring a towel!" I do as instructed. Stuff towel into bleeding whining mouth. Immediately stopped blood flow and significantly muffled whining. (have to remember that for future reference!) After a sufficient amount of time has passed, I remove towel from mouth to observe the damage. Keep in mind that all the while I am holding towel DH is tearing the bedroom apart looking for the missing tooth. The idea that she swallowed it is too much for him to stomach - pun intended! Okay, so I am checking out the damage - dangling tooth #1 - MIA. Barely loose tooth #2 has now acquired dangling status. The whole injury is pretty gross so I stuff towel back over mess, tell DD it's all going to be okay and encourage DH in his quest for tooth #1.

About this time, DD #2 shows up and wants to know who's blood is all over the towel and where did it come from. Immediately realize my tactical mistake - should have grabbed a dark colored towel. DD #1 is extremely agitated - not so much that she's bleeding but that sister is trying to steal her thunder.

DD #2 is banished from the scene in order to maintain some sort of calm. DH still has not found tooth #1. We move to the bathroom so injured DD can rinse her mouth out and inspect her almost toothless grin in the mirror. I must admit, it's still pretty gross. Astronomical orthodontic bills run through my head. She is still pretty pathetic until she decides that she'd like to show off her war-wound to Sister. "Thister, Thister! Thome Thee my mout!"

After we complete Show and Tell/Gross-Out, I send DD to the den to rest in DH's lap while I clean the kitchen. I explain to DH that he needs to keep her in his lap so she will be still, quiet and hopefully get some much needed rest. No more than four minutes have expired and DH is trying to put her on the couch. I return to protest.

He says "She's gross! She's playing with that dangling tooth with her tongue" I tell him to turn her so he can't see her mouth. He replies, "It's not the sight, it's the SOUND. THWACK, THWACK, slurp, THWACK! It's giving me the Heebie Jeebies!"

Trying not to break into a complete fit of giggles, I keep a straight face and instruct DD to not play with her dangling tooth with her tongue. Shortly thereafter, she falls asleep - drool and blood seeping into DH's shirt sleeve. Again.... "Honnnnneeeeeeyyyyy! Come here and bring a towel!" Again, I do as instructed. He plants the dark-colored wash cloth between his sleeve and her now swollen mouth.

In about an hour, I announce that brownies are ready. DD loses tooth #2 while enjoying brownie. Someone wake the guy that stands at the castle door with those long trumpets - the kind with the banners hanging off of them. What are those guys called? Anyway, need for them to herald the loss of second tooth in one day.

That night, as bed time arrives, I give DD the second tooth to place under her pillow. I swear not five minutes pass and she has lost it somewhere in her bedroom. Was under the pillow, fell off the bed and is now GONE. Talk about traumatic. What's the TF going to do now???

So the TF has a meeting in the bathroom and decides NOT to visit that night. That we'll give her a day to locate the missing tooth. If no tooth then, we'll write a note to the TF explaining what has happened.

No tooth the next day. Forgot to write note. Forgot to leave TF money. So this morning, DH slinks in there - she's already up and playing - bed stripped down to the fitted sheet and somehow 'finds' TF money. Three whole dollars. You'd have thought the TF left Three Thousand Dollars! Counted and recounted the THREE DOLLARS!

Had to show Sister the MONEY she got from the TF. Once Sister is adequately jealous, she moves back to playing in her room.

Now, DD #2 is convinced that she will never loose any teeth and the TF will never come see her. Let's hope - for the sake of my sanity - that's it's not quite as exciting as the last two teeth have been.

And to top it all off, after all this excitement on Sunday, I have to run into town on Monday to pick up a prescription for DD #1. On the way, I get a flat tire on my mini-van. First off, let me say this - I am a way cool chic. I have driven way-cool cars. When I got married, I had an Acura Legend. Then I drove a Jeep Wrangler, next a Chevy Tahoe, a Trailblazer and now a Honda Odyssey MINIVAN. I got a new vehicle with each pregnancy. "What, You're pregnant? Here, let me get you a new car with that."

When it came time for the last new vehicle, I knew I had to have something with three rows of seats. Was not about to place precious baby #3 in the middle of the Terrible Two. They'd would have off'd him in less than a week. Hence, three rows of seats - for Baby #3's safety. This meant we were looking at a gas-guzzling Suburban.

For the sake of economy ONLY, I suggested we consider a mini-van never thinking for a minute that DH would even consider it. He did and the next thing I know, I am the proud owner of a metallic gold minivan. Had a serious identity crisis. How could I possibly be a cool chic and drive a MINIVAN!!???

Then it occurred to me - one of the coolest friends I have - and I do mean cool on the ultimate level - Very Chic - Hippest clothes, shoes, bags, makeup, hair - travels internationally - (is actually from Ireland) has frequent great sex with her husband cool - SHE DRIVES A MINIVAN. That settled it for me then and there. If she can be that cool and transport her kids around in a minivan - I CAN TOO.

So this is how I found myself on the side of the road - out in the country - with a flat tire on a minivan. And it occurred to me for the first time ever, that I had never seen a spare tire or jack in, on or near my van. So I phoned DH and he tells me it's hidden under the floor in the center of the van. Okay Honey, but there are seats in the middle of the van. This is going to be fun...

So I move the driver's seat as far forward as it will go - almost through the windshield. Under the carpet, I find a secret compartment. How exciting! The real secret was knowing how to get the spare out of the compartment... Seriously. The Owner's Manual says to turn the nut-thing counter clockwise. Good thing I had my watch on.

Once loosened, and force is exerted, the spare is free of the van. Now my new quest is to find the jack. Refer back to Owner's Manual - a handy little guide, by the way. And what do you know - ANOTHER secret compartment. This time in the back. POP the cover off and there it is - the jack - firmly secured and not moving at all from it's place of hiding. I stop briefly to imagine all the things I could have stored/hidden in these wonderful little compartments. Diapers, sippy cups, wet wipes, movies, CD's, tequila... Guess it's a good thing I did not know about them. Then I wouldn't have my spare and my jack.

Again, turn thing-a-ma-gig counterclockwise (refer back to watch) to loosen bolt on jack so as to remove it from van. Turned. Loosened. Removed.

Thankfully, there is a picture of sorts on the jack that tells me where to place the thing. So here I am - splayed out flat on the ground - after checking for broken glass and Fire Ants (a Texas specialty). I think this is not the thing a proper lady should be doing. Then quickly remind myself I am not a proper lady. I am (want to be) one of those gals that can handle anything and take care of herself...

Jack in place, I attempt to raise the van off the flat tire. Once again call DH to brag on my progress. I can tell he is quite concerned that I am not capable of doing this by myself. I tell him I am jacking the van up. He asks if I loosened the nuts first. I say "Of course I did, honey" - as I slyly reach over and start loosening the bolts.

At this time, two White Knights in an old pickup truck stop to help me. Their weather worn faces and hands tell me they are likely local farmers. They could be from Mars and wear women's clothing and I would still be thrilled to see them. In all of about seven minutes, they remove the flat, put the spare on and have me back on my way to town to pick up medicine for my toothless daughter - still high as a kite - from three new dollars delivered a day late by the Tooth Fairy.

see, flat tires and the tooth fairy. It's never dull...