3 a.m. cash crunch
Soren has been making me check his teeth on a daily basis in the hopes that something will fall out creating a windfall of gold dollars under his pillow.
The other night, I dutifully wiggled a slightly loose one. He ran over to his dad, who wiggled, then he put his fingers together like plyers and plucked it right out of his head. He smiled proudly while blood dripped down his chin. Score!
Crap. This was bad.
I whispered to Marty, "Do you have a dollar?"
Who the heck has a dollar in their wallet these days? I subtley checked the laundry pockets, the junk drawers, the underwear drawers, the car ashtray ... all the places I was hoping actual money might be laying around. All of those places had been robbed a long time ago when the boys realized they could buy bubble gum and popsicles from the baseball field concession stands.
Looking for money wore me out and I fell asleep on the couch while waiting for Soren to fall asleep.
At 3 a.m., I broke into a piggy bank and started shaking.
Cha-chink. Cha-chink. Cha-chink.
Marty wakes up, realizing we had a cash emergency on our hands, to help.
We found one paper dollar, wrinkled and dirty, among the pennies and nickels. Two quarters, and the gold dollar Soren had gotten from the tooth fairy last time.
Let this be a lesson to other mothers — the tooth fairy doesn't take debit.