Wednesday 19 November 2014

Being the Tooth Fairy

We are getting familiar with the tooth fairy here.
Coco has lost three teeth so far - although the tooth fairy has only visited twice; the second tooth was lost in a suspected swallowing incident at another child's birthday party.  I suggested to Coco that she wrote a note to the tooth fairy explaining the situation, but she never got around to it. I wasn't going to push it.

I find the deceptiveness of this fairy-lady (like her colleague Father Christmas) quite annoying. On the one hand I don't want to be a boring, practical and say-it-how-it-is parent, but on the other I don't want to be actively deceiving my children, making them believe in something that doesn't exist and basically lying to them. Especially in the face of direct questioning.
I think Coco, at nearly seven, understands this - she actually doesn't often ask direct questions and smiles at me (in what I choose to interperet as a bit of a knowing way) when I throw the question back at her with a "Well, how do you think the tooth fairy knows to come and look under your pillow today?"

The whole process gets more disturbing when I have to find cash and creep into her room late at night. Is it a bit wrong that I feel a slight thrill that I might be caught out being the tooth fairy? There's not a chance, our girl really does slumber very well, yet still I have this frisson - a feeling that makes me vaguely giddy and takes me back to some unmentionable moments from my past. I don't breath as I sneak the tooth out from under her pillow, only allowing myself to inhale again once I'm back on the other side of her bedroom door. Then I find myself standing holding a tooth. Coco was kind enough to put the last one in a bag - not for her squeamish mother of course, but I still appreciated it... But I stand there... "what should I do with it?" I can't have it discovered. Even though I don't think she believes and I don't want to lie.
I stuffed the bagged one in a pot high up on some shelves, but it's not a good hiding place. I need a better one (and it's dangerously close to her letter to Father Christmas from last year come to think of it). Maybe I should booby-trap the whole zone. I remember discovering a slightly gruesome little mother-of-pearl pot of baby teeth on my mothers dressing table once, like little relics to childhood. Little did I know at the time how much angst baby-teeth cause parents, both on their arrival and their departure.

And as for the going rate for a tooth? I think I went in way too high with a nice round shiny pound coin. I got a bit over-excited, but I've made my bed... or maybe when she gets 10p next time I could just shrug my shoulders, it's not my fault; it's up to the Tooth Fairy (she's capitalised now). Although, there have already been a few statements thrown around about the tooth fairies favoritism - she obviously rather likes one of Coco's school friends who got a whole list of gifts.

I need to be more sensible about it all. More considered and definitely a bit more grown up.
A good start would be to actually BOOK THAT DENTIST APPOINTMENT  for her which I've been meaning to do for ages.
Why is it that I put off the simplest of tasks? Especially in this modern internet age where you can simply to a website like Toothpick and just click on a button and it's done.
Then the only thing I have left to do bribe Coco into brushing her teeth a little more thoroughly and eat a few less sticky things.
Maybe I'll tell her the Tooth Fairy won't visit again if she doesn't. That will work.

Toothpick kindly sponsored me to write this post - all thoughts are my own.


  1. The worst thing is explaining why the tooth fairy forgot to visit this time, when mum or dad actually forgot to do the deed. We've done this a couple of times and it feels awful.

  2. We haven't needed a visit from the Tooth Fairy yet, but my friends have it sussed.
    You see, Tooth Fairies only deal in teeth. They don't really understand human currency. But they know that we like coins. So the Tooth Fairies have a rummage down the sofa, and find a coin, and that's what you get. It's pot luck how much the coin is worth...

  3. love this post - hilarious! Also found my manky old teeth lovingly preserved by my mum in a little pot, love your not so secret hiding place (FYI I never found my dad's christmas pressies but always always always found my mums!), love that your tooth fairy is being affected by government cuts (or similar) xx

  4. I've been feeling the pressure of the lying a bit too lately. Tis the season to make fibs up (tra la la la laaaa)... I feel like a bed has been made by time and society that we need to gently lie in (pun not intended but why not) and continue. Part of me thinks why ruin the magic, the other half can't wait til its all over and I don't have to try to make magic happen (tooth fairy, the big fella, seriously, we tell our kids how bad it is to lie and think of the whoppers that keep falling out of our mouths this time of year especially...) any more, and how do I tell my kids that all their friends are being lied to or are wrong about all these over exaggerated or make believe folk anyway? The pressure of perfection and wonderment, the deception, its all getting a bit much.
    Whilst we are fibbing about the tooth fairy tho, it has some uses. They only pay out on good ones you see, any sign of decay and you can kiss your coins goodbye, after all, what use does a tooth fairy have for a rotten one...