Most families with children have an endearing story or two to share about the Tooth Fairy. How remarkable that nearly every child buys into the myth and holds onto it longer than it seems possible. What parent has not had to think on their feet or scramble like mad to come up with a story because they forgot to make the swap? We have seen our share of containers fashioned of Kleenex, folded paper, pouches and envelopes cradling each child’s tiny tooth under a pillow, waiting for the trade.
While we bemoan the inflationary Tooth Fairy rate (in our family, from a quarter when I was a parent, to now $5 for the grandchildren), we agree the cost is well worth it. When my son was 8-ish, and his tooth losses were beginning to wane, he was apparently arriving at some skepticism about the Tooth Fairy. He told his sister, then 5, to do an experiment.
“Next time you lose a tooth,” he instructed, “hide it under your pillow, but don’t tell Mom or Dad.” Luckily his sister was still in the suspended disbelief stage and she ignored him. With the birth of the grandchildren, all new Tooth Fairy stories unfolded.
The oldest grandchild paved the way, handcrafting his note. But he was so swept up in the realism that he asked if he could hide his tooth and his letter in the living room so the Tooth Fairy did not accidentally wake and startle him. Another grandson was 6 when he wrote the Tooth Fairy a heartfelt letter.
“My seventh tooth just fell out and for that special acasion(sp.) .
