For months now, my son Ty has been on a mission to disprove the Easter bunny, Santa Claus, and all things magical.
A few weeks ago, when he lost a tooth, I snuck into his room and put some money under his pillow, successfully taking the tooth without waking him up. When I got back to my room (this was about five in the morning) I just put it in a bag under a sweatshirt, thinking I was safe to leave it there for the night.
It wasn’t even seven a.m. when I opened my eyes to the sounds of rummaging. As I sat up and rubbed my eyes, there was Ty, holding up the bag, with a look of supreme triumph on his face. Ha! his eyes said. Caught you.
“What are you doing, honey?” I said, opting for the “innocent-me” route.
“What is my tooth doing in your room, in this bag?” he said, his sweet voice dripping with accusation.
I shook my head in wonder. “I have no idea,” I said, as if I could not fathom such a turn of events....