Friends, we have a major staffing issue here at Chez Dominguez. It seems our tooth fairy has gone round the bend.
We brought her on board about nine years ago, and at the time she seemed the perfect fit for the position. When our first child lost her first tooth, our tooth fairy showed up exactly as promised. She left a nice crisp dollar bill under Zoë’s pillow, retrieved that precious tiny tooth, and ever so considerately stored it for me in the little box at the back of my underwear drawer.
In all the years that Zoë lost teeth, that fairy managed to make the transfer without once waking her. Now, it is true that she dropped the ball a couple of times over the years. At least twice she was an entire DAY late, and once she left four rather grubby looking quarters where a brand new dollar bill should have been. One morning, I was certain I saw her poking around under Zoë’s pillow as Zoë was getting dressed for school. It’s understandable, everyone has off days.
When Grey began losing teeth our tooth fairy handled the additional responsibility with aplomb. I was slightly disappointed to discover that she was depositing his teeth in the SAME box as Zoë’s, but we discussed it and I came to the conclusion that I may have had unrealistic expectations. Tooth sorting is evidently the providence of forensics, not fairy.
The real problems began about a year ago.
When Zoë lost her final tooth, our fairy was an absolute no-show. No dollar, no quarters, no one-day-late delivery – absolutely NOTHING. Don’t think for a minute that just because Zoë was thirteen, she didn’t notice. Oh, no. She was deeply disappointed and threatened to smear the good name of our fairy to everyone in the house. She pointed out that our tooth fairy was still visiting her younger brother and suggested she was playing favorites. I suggested that perhaps the tooth fairy just wasn’t very keen on molars with fillings, but Zoë was unconvinced, not to mention unimpressed.
Last month, I finally had to admit that our fairy was losing her touch.
Juliette lost her first tooth. It was a momentous occasion. All three little girls had been wiggling their loose teeth to beat the band (I was tempted to super glue the twins’ teeth in place just to make sure the age hierarchy held up) and finally, one day little J came home from school beaming. Beaming and missing a tooth. Her teacher had given her a little purple box to keep her tooth safe, and she dutifully put that box under her pillow when she went to sleep. The next morning, it was STILL there.
Juliette, my highly sensitive child, was CRUSHED.
She really let us have it. “I KNEW the Tooth Fairy was too small to open that box! I TOLD YOU and TOLD YOU but you WOULDN’T listen!” she cried.
The next night we spent forty-five minutes arranging the tooth in an open Ziplock bag, just to be sure that damn fairy had access. Juliette wouldn’t hear of leaving the tooth under her pillow without protection. “The Tooth Fairy is small and it’s DARK, duh. She’ll never find it!”
In the morning, Juliette awoke to TWO (slightly crumpled) dollar bills under her pillow.
People, this sets a very bad precedent. Very bad, indeed. You know why? Because Alice and Celia each lost their first tooth the next week, that’s why.
Suddenly, our fairy has doubled her rates and her requirements, right when we need her most. Not only that, but she seems to be losing the trust of the populace. Just the other day, Alice suggested that I am the Tooth Fairy. What’s next, some foolish notions about the suspect nature of Santa?! And what became of those precious first teeth? I have no idea, but they aren’t in the box – I suspect that hussy threw them in the trash.
Clearly, our fairy needs to be replaced.
Here are our requirements:
- Timely
- Reliable
- Strong (we still have that stupid box)
- Silent
- Cost-conscious
Also, Alice says it wouldn’t hurt if she were pink. ‘Cuz you know, REAL fairies always are.
Anonymous
You are always so funny, thanks for brightening up my day!
Jen
Thanks for brightening mine!
Lorrie
Oh, Jen . . . if you find a qualified tooth fairy, please send her my way. One of my children has four teeth – FOUR! – waiting to be exchanged. It is a sad state!
Thank you for helping me to feel that we are not alone.