Our Tooth Fairy Retires!

Today was a bittersweet type of milestone for our family.  My youngest child lost her last baby tooth.  Our Tooth Fairy gets to hang up her cape (or do they wear capes?  Maybe a tutu…) and retire to a sunny beach with a tropical drink in hand.  A sugar free-tropical drink I assume.  I picture her being very conscientious about tooth decay prevention.

She has served us well.  With three children at 20 baby teeth each, she has had her hands full.  It’s been about 18 years of being on-call for late night visits to retrieve the newly shed tooth and leave a bit of money.

There was one exception.  My middle son with Autism.  He had barely begun to communicate verbally when he lost his first tooth.  We were never able to fully understand his terror over losing his teeth but he would frantically try to get the tooth and put it back in his mouth.  We think we isolated his fear to the notion of the Tooth Fairy.

When you think about it, it is a little freaky.  Kids, you lost a body part so now we put it out at night and some strange creature, one that your parents have never met nor even set eyes on, will sneak into your bedroom while you sleep and exchange your tooth for cash.  I’m kinda wondering why my other kids so readily accepted the arrangement.

In this case, our Tooth Fairy worked with us so when he lost a tooth, she gave us the money (via bank transfer so she didn’t even come to the house) to take him to the toy store the next day to pick out one of the tiny plush Sesame Street characters he was so obsessed with.  No late night sneaking around, the whole transaction was completely transparent.  Everyone was happy and he managed to make it through all his teeth with minimal drama.

She has shown some creativity at other times, with mixed results.  My youngest had a propensity for hiding the fact that a tooth is even loose until moments before bedtime.  She would walk proudly into my bedroom, washcloth dangling from her mouth, and parade the newly liberated tooth around the room like an Olympic torch.  Without prior notice, the tooth fairy has been caught unprepared.  Once it was two nights before Easter and the Tooth Fairy was able to negotiate with the Easter Bunny to use one of his Barbie eggs filled with stickers and temporary tattoos.  Another time she was caught off guard with nothing smaller than a $5 bill on hand.  Since I was home alone with kids in bed, I couldn’t help her out so a $5 bill was left for that tooth.  That set an unfortunate precedent and caused much higher expectations for future teeth.

That rate of inflation has me a little concerned for the Tooth Fairy’s retirement plans.  When I was a kid, a quarter was the norm and I was thrilled with the shiny fifty cent piece I found the morning after my last baby tooth.  We’ve ended our run at $5 per tooth and I hope that hasn’t been too burdensome on her.  Ideally, she got some good investment advice from the leprechauns and has a tidy sum socked away for her golden years.

I’ve been aware for some time that she is ready for retirement.  These last few teeth have seen a couple of instances where the Tooth Fairy didn’t make it to our house in time.  I completely understood because they were very late, hectic nights.  I assume she was as tired as I was and simply fell asleep.  Just like I did.  In both of these cases, my daughter was fine with me advancing the money in the morning although there were some raised eyebrows over the Tooth Fairy’s lack of diligence.  It was almost like she was blaming me.  I had to explain that our Tooth Fairy wasn’t getting any younger and we needed to be more understanding and forgiving.  I hope her little half smile and drawn out “Uh-huh” as she walked away wasn't a sign that she is developing a lack of empathy for other people.  Or, in this case, fairies.

I wish our Tooth Fairy an enjoyable retirement although I will miss the late night subterfuge and, most of all, the excitement of a child discovering the surprise waiting for them in the morning.  I hope she will come out of retirement for my future grandchildren.  Until then, dear Tooth Fairy, please relax and enjoy your newfound freedom.  I’m a little jealous but, hey, you’ve earned it!