Tuesday, June 22, 2010

I'm pretty sure I can differentiate between being a Mom and becoming a Serial Killer.

I think my title needs work.

Clarification:  I don't want to become a serial killer.  First of all, that would require some sort of planning to even get to the "serial" stage.  Which as you probably can gather from the frequency of my Blog posts - that shit ain't going to happen.  

Maybe if I explain some things this wouldn't be so confusing and (more importantly) I wouldn't have cops knocking on my door intent on digging up the backyard.
A few days ago my oldest son lost his third tooth.  He's been slow at losing his teeth and it's been well over a year since I last saw one.  Husband and I were trying to remember how much money the Tooth Fairy normally gives.  I thought for the first tooth we gave $10 since it was the first.  The second one I think we gave $5.  Apparently teeth depreciate in value faster than a Dodge Caravan, because with two kids in the house with mouths full of baby teeth, Husband and I decided that we should move away from bills into Coin of the Realm.  In Canadian terms, that meant a paltry $2 (a toonie) was being offered up.

My husband volunteered to play the part of Tooth Fairy and came back to our bedroom looking successful, yet slightly confused, like a stockbroker with a new client (zing!)  Husband had the tooth pinched between two fingers and then offered it up to me:

"Here you go," he said, as if he wasn't sure if I'd want it, but knows he doesn't want it, so is going to pass-the-buck (tooth) to me. 

"Why would I want that?" I ask him.

"Don't you save these?"

"Um, no."

"Yes, you do.  Right here.  'My First Tooth.'  It says what's inside right on the box."   Husband takes off the lid of the box to confirm his victory.  Nestled inside is the incriminating tooth.

"That's for the first tooth.  I need that one."


There it was.  The question I never even asked myself.  Why did I need Baby's First Haircut clippings and why did I periodically go through my sons Baby Books and fudge information about what jarred baby food they first tried and when? 

Obviously it's all in case I'm asked the skill-testing question of Ultimate Motherhood:  "Did you save your children's first teeth in the requisite First Tooth boxes?" I can say: "yes, of course I did.  Here they are.  I held onto them for all these years just hoping someone would ask me about them.  Finally someone did.  Thank you."

"I'm not going to save every tooth,"  I reassured my husband.  "That's something a serial killer would do."

"Serial killers keep baby teeth?" Husband asked.

"No, but they keep trophies and sometimes that's like a ring from the victim, but a lot of times it's body parts."  I read Criminal Library.  I felt very authoritative on this matter. 

"Not even a serial killer would keep a full mouth of teeth."  Husband declared.

"What about mobsters?  They might knock all the teeth out and take them just to prevent the victim from being identified.  Plus, what about the Jeffrey Dahmer types?  They decapitate and keep the whole head.  With teeth."  I added, in case it wasn't totally obvious. 

"You're sick..."

"I'm not the one that's doing it!  That's what I'm trying to tell you!  I'm within the realms of socially acceptable behavior by keeping the first tooth.  To keep like twenty teeth strung on a necklace would make me criminally insane!  Plus, you offered that tooth to me!  You didn't mind me collecting them, but now that I point out how serial killerish that would be, you're suddenly saying how sick I am?!  What the hell, dude?!"

"Okay, sorry.   Sheesh...so I should just put this in the garbage then?"


And that's the story of how I figured out that I'm merely a Mom and not a mass murderer after all.  Some people might question why I even need to try to figure shit like this out, but seriously?  It's good to know.