Puppy lost a tooth recently. Yes, another one. That fact in and of itself isn’t surprising, but the fact that I managed to botch the whole Tooth Fairy thing yet again is. I mean how hard can it be? Kid loses tooth, kid puts tooth under pillow, Mom or Dad takes tooth and leaves a reward in return. Simple, right?
Not in my house. Here, complications always arise. Once, Puppy’s tooth fell out during the night and she swallowed it. Another time, Mom forgot to play Tooth Fairy. With Puppy’s last tooth, Mom remembered, but didn’t have any cash or change to put under the pillow. And now this.
Putting her tooth in a bowl to keep it safe while we ate breakfast seemed like a great idea. Except after breakfast I rushed to clear the table so we could get out the door.
It wasn’t until we got home later that day and Puppy asked to see her tooth that I realized what I’d done. I spent the next thirty minutes with my hand down the garbage disposal, hoping against hope that I could find and salvage the tooth. No such luck.
Fortunately, Puppy is fairly pragmatic. While I searched for the tooth, she drafted the following letter to the tooth fairy (In the interests of full disclosure I should note that I’ve taken the liberty of cleaning up the spelling):
Dear Tooth Fairy,
I know I promised that you would always get my teeth ever since I swallowed my tooth. But my mom accidentally misplaced my tooth so I am sorry I broke my promise. Could you still visit me please?
p.s. My mom put it down the garbage disposal so it is not my fault
Fortunately, Puppy is now sound asleep and I’ve not only successfully removed the letter from under her pillow, but also deposited a handsome reward in its place, accompanied by the following response:
Thank you for the update on your tooth. Of course I’ll still visit you! After all, it wouldn’t be fair if I held you responsible for your mother’s mistakes. Just promise me I’ll get your next tooth, okay?
The Tooth Fairy
Playing the role of the Tooth Fairy is obviously not one of my core competencies, but fortunately writing is. Good thing, too, because with only seven teeth down, I’ve obviously got my work cut out for me.