After weeks of wiggling, the tooth finally came out. It’s been about two years since the last tooth, so it took us a while to find the tooth pillow. It was near the bottom of the stuffed animal bin. Lily doesn’t play with them much any more, but she isn’t ready to part with them either. As she inserted the tooth into the pocket, she said, “I’m putting it here in the middle so that you don’t have to reach way in to get it out.” She said, “you.” Does she know? Is the tooth out of the pillow?
Mock Confusion: “Why are you telling me this?”
Questioning: “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Neither answer was definitive. Maybe we are both playing our respective roles in this game for the sake of the other. Which is kind of sweet. In an hour, I will raid my husband’s wallet for a couple of dollars and sneak up the stairs. Holding my breath, I will slowly turn the knob. If she doesn’t stir, I will pad gently to the pillow and replace the tooth with the bills. Before retreating, I will stop to listen to the deep slow breathing of my child.
In the morning, she will tell us about the gift, and I won’t know whether she is humoring me or not.