The Skeeterflip Report #11
Everyone thinks my job as the Loose Tooth Checker is a breeze. A tooth either wiggles. Or it doesn’t. It’s either loose or it’s not.
And, I agree, that part of the job is pretty easy.
It’s getting to the tooth that’s tricky. And I’m not just talking about getting children to open their mouths so I can take a look. I’m talking about getting to the mouth in the first place.
And when it’s dark, that creates a whole new set of challenges.
Fortunately, many children sleep with night lights on. I love visiting these rooms. It’s easy to see where I’m going, and I usually breeze in and out in a flash.
But other children like to sleep in very dark rooms. In those cases, I click a button on the handle of my magnifying glass, and it lights up like a flashlight to show me the way.
The other night, though, that flashlight feature didn’t work. I was in the darkest of bedrooms, and I could not see a thing. I couldn’t see the little girl, whose loose tooth I was supposed to check. I couldn’t even see her bed, so I didn’t even know which direction to go.
After flying around for 10 minutes, and crashing into many walls and other unidentifiable objects, I finally felt some hair. It felt long and silky. This had to be the little girl’s head.
I started to move the hair so I could find her mouth to check her loose tooth. That’s when she started to meow.
I’m used to hearing children snore, wheeze, burble and puff, but never meow. Odd, I thought.
But the next moment, it started to make sense when I saw a big glowing eye. And the moment after that, it made even more sense when something swatted me across the room. That was my cue to get out of there. I didn’t need to hang around any longer to solve this mystery.
Unfortunately, I still couldn’t see anything in the dark, which made it challenging to find my way out of the bedroom. Especially with something swatting at me and pouncing on me at every turn.
I must confess that I dropped my loose tooth letter to that little girl somewhere in her room. I hope she found it the next morning without too much trouble. I had to send Mischiefee back the next night to check for a sticker on her big toe and pick up her Loose Tooth Confirmation Form. Unlike me, he’s an adrenaline junkie.
Needless to say, this is why I haven’t written a report in a few weeks. I’ve been recovering from the fright and flight of my life.
I’ll just say this in closing: The next time someone tells me that being a Loose Tooth Checker is easy, I’m going to ask them to do my job for a day.
Well, that’s it for this week’s report. I’ll send over another one soon.