Do you ever briefly wonder about the intelligence of your child? In a not so flattering manner? I mean in the most loving maternal way of course.
A few months ago Zack figured out the myth of Santa Claus and made me fess to it. I mistakenly thought that this meant that he had figured out the myth of all the fairytale creatures that visit the house in the night.
Last night, I pulled out another of his teeth (this child will not pull out his own teeth despite the thinness of the thread that they dangle by). This one was easy, just stuck my finger in there while he was sleeping and it popped right out. I woke him up to show him, he put it in his tooth pillow, and went back to sleep.
Thinking he'd like to hang on to one of his teeth, and figuring since the jig was up, I stuck a buck in the pillow and didn't take the tooth.
This morning he came into our room, extremely confused that the tooth fairy had obviously come, but had left his tooth. I just stared at him waiting for the light bulb to go on. It didn't. I changed the subject. I wonder how long this will take?
ps. - Since he's determined that I am Santa Claus, Zack's been a state of high distress. You can imagine that Santa will bring you anything, your parents, not so much.