The other day, my daughter lost her eighth tooth. She’s now on the same number as her brother apparently. Who knew there could be competitive tooth loss?
The first night we all forgot to leave it out for the tooth fairy.
The second night, she carefully positioned it.
But the tooth fairy never arrived. Perhaps he or she didn’t get the memo about the delay… or thought it was a bit ironic following the Great Easter Bunny Discovery.
The third night almost went the same way. However, a light bulb moment meant my husband got a dig in the ribs just after drifting off to sleep.
Do you have a pound coin?
The answer was negative but he knew where the change was so he was nominated fairy.
That is, until he came creeping back into the room asking for some assistance. The tooth was on a shelf above said daughter’s head – which happens to be a few metres off the ground due to her platform bed. He didn’t like his chances of climbing on the bedside table without injuring him or it.
I scrambled up and made the trade.
I then looked over my shoulder and thought it was a great opportunity for a trust exercise, to elegantly fall into my husband’s arms…
or smack him in the face with my elbow, with him trying to hold in the expletives until out of waking up child range.
We had confirmed he didn’t need the tooth fairy when he disclosed that our daughter had asked him earlier that day whether the tooth fairy really did exist!
It was almost as painful as discovering the fairy actually left £1.20.
My son was particularly interested in the apparent inflation. It has currently been explained away as interest due to the delay. I am waiting for him to reveal a tooth that he lost a year ago…
Tough Mother 