I love when I come across articles that have the best parenting tweets of the week. If you don’t know already, Ryan Reynolds is the master at these, but I’d like to think that I would have some pretty good ones too (but even now, I’m twitillerate).
I recall the confusion with both of my daughters on the subject of the tooth fairy. My oldest daughter was convinced that the tooth fairy harvested your teeth in the night, that somehow you would sleep through the extraction of her teeth. My brother has just given her a tooth fairy Barbie (maybe that was the culprit). At any rate, when I told my daughter that is not the way the tooth fairy works, she said, “you don’t get it!” (her favorite line from toddlerhood). “I don’t get it? I’m the tooth fairy bitch” I wanted to yell, after an 18 hour day. Of course, I’d never call my child a bitch, but still, that would’ve been a funny tweet.
My younger daughter was obsessed with Bratz Dolls (remember those hypersexualized, almost cartoon-like dolls?) Yes those and all the accouterments, the Bratz car and Bratz airplane (if I only I had one idea that took off like that, but I digress).
She asked me: “How much money you get per tooth?”
I told her: “It depends on the tooth – did it have a cavity, etc? But mostly one to two dollars.”
Then she asked me how many teeth will she be losing before she gets her grownup teeth. I responded “about 20“. Then, she asks:
“So, how much is my mouth worth?“
Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but suddenly the monetary system of Target is teeth, we’ve reverted back to stone money and wampum in my house. Of course, I tried explaining that all her teeth wouldn’t fall out at once, so she would have to save her money. This was like trying to nail Jello to a tree…
Moving on, my oldest daughter was born at the end of February and my stepson, at the beginning of January, the subsequent year. They were unbiological Irish twins, as they were the same age for six weeks each year. When pressed, I would reveal that I didn’t give birth to them both, something I would not recommend for a blended family. Just let them think you got right back on the horse.
So, it is January of 1994 and my stepson turns 3. My daughter, Heather, is screaming:
“He can’t be three, he just can’t! I’m three and I’m the big sister!“
She was inconsolable… I tried explaining – but who uses logic and reason with a three-year old? Her birthday rolls around at the end of February and she turns four. After she blows out the candles, she stares her brother down and says:
“I won! I won!” while wagging her fingers in his face.
Only in my house do you win birthdays…
Finally, there is the story of my oldest daughter, Heather, playing the game of t-ball. It was the bottom of the sixth inning (there is only six innings) and the score was 14-0 (we had the zero). There were two outs and the bases were fully loaded. Heather hit a grand slam. Even better, we went through the entire line up, with no more outs. Heather’s second time up – she scored the 15th run and saved the game. I’m not sure how to make this funny, but I’m sure the twitterverse will figure it out!
The tweet above reminds me of what I would never name a student JJ (but that’s for another time). I need to figure out the twitterverse now, because I have grandchildren, and I want in on this action.
Comedy is a great coping mechanism. Are there any twitter tutors out there?