Daughter number two lost both of her front teeth yesterday. I woke up to a little smiling girl, with a conspicuous one-tooth gap. "Daddy," she said. "Look at this!" she beamed.
Later that day, while I was preparing to cook dinner, she ran into the kitchen and said, "Daddy, look!" Her gap had widened.
Early this morning, after I woke up and showered, I nudged my wife to ask if she had played tooth fairy last night. "Oh, I forgot."
"How much were you going to give her?" I asked.
"Three dollars," she said.
So, I got the money and snuck into her room (as stealthily as a large land mammal can in a room full of creaks). Her and her sister share a full-size bed, the top level of a giant bunk bed. First I had to stand up on a chair to see which side she had her head on. Then I made my way over and gently felt under her pillow for the Zip-lock bag. Bag in hand, I prepared to put the money under her pillow when I noticed she was waking up. She sat up, and before she could get her wits about her, I put the money under her pillow and slouched down where she couldn't see me.
I could hear her checking under her pillow. I heard her rustle the bills as she counted.
"(Daughter Number One)! (Daughter Number One)!" she woke her sister.
"Yes? What is it, (Daughter Number Two)?"
"I got three dollars!"
"You should have one. You deserve one."
"No you should keep your money, (Daughter Number Two)."
"No, you deserve one because of your broken tooth the other day."
"Thank you, but you should keep it."
And that is why my kids rock.