The Tooth Fairy is quite the frequent visitor to our house all of a sudden. My six year old son’s baby teeth seem to be popping out on a pretty regular basis so I would say we are like “that” with the TF at the moment. For “that” just imagine if you will, a crossed finger emoji and all kinds of TF love. Thanks.
I’d kind of forgotten about this level of childhood excitement to be honest. Possibly due to the fact there is a whole lot of Easter Bunny excitement also going on (at the time of this post going live we will have had the big day of eating chocolate for breakfast and celebrating all things Easter) so the unlikely combination of teeth and chocolate is a Big Deal.
At my age I don’t really remember that much about losing teeth as a child. I do, however vividly remember “hearing” the Tooth Fairy departing my childhood bedroom with a super sweet “Goodnight, sleep tight” that didn’t sound anything like my Mother’s voice as far as I was concerned. The excitement levels of waiting for the morning and feeling under the pillow for a shiny coin was reminiscent of waiting for Christmas Day and seeing if Father Christmas had visited.
Now, as a parent, I have the chance to revisit all these nostalgic feelings and the best part? “Helping” the Tooth Fairy herself with the all important job of locating the tooth and replacing it with that shiny coin.
Ah yes, the coin. Now without making me sound old, although lets face it, it’s been a few years since the TF had any business to pop coins under my pillow, back in the day it was a shiny 20 pence piece as the going rate for my baby teeth. These days, after consulting the manual it seems to vary. A lot. Anything from £1, £2 – there was even an ugly rumour that someone in the class received Actual Paper Money for a tooth once, although I’m putting this down purely to six-year-old hearsay. In our house these days, the going rate started with a £2 coin, then dropped to £1 when apparently the TF hadn’t anything larger in her purse that day, then it shot back up to £2 when she ran out of pound coins. So I guess it should stay as this.
The actual operation of placing of said coin can be a tricky one. When my son had his mid sleeper bed, it was a little further for that fairy to fly and on one memorable occasion she struggled as the tooth had been placed under the pillow just a little too far out of reach. She climbed up a little further (hovering was out of the question as she may or may not have had a couple of Proseccos, although this is completely unconfirmed) and just managed to pop the coin under, grab the tooth and slink ninja-like out of the room and back to her fairy castle.
This time however, my son decided we would go with a different approach that I’m told pleased the Tooth Fairy greatly. A cushion was placed outside the bedroom door – a move I was told was learnt from a classmate at school who wasn’t entirely comfortable with fairies entering a small childs’ room. It was agreed that the tooth would be wrapped in tissue, as is customary, popped on the pillow and this would be far easier for any fairy-based work to be done.
But there was more involved. Apparently these days, notes must be written. Pictures must be drawn, envelopes must be addressed correctly and clearly for all avoidance of doubt as to who could possibly be popping round in the wee small hours and taking teeth.
A good half an hour at bedtime was spent carefully and meticulously on this letter. Promises made of “cleaning all of my teeth cleaner than white snow” and directions such as “Ceep it safe and don’t let enebody tuch my tooth” were written in best handwriting, though not completely the right spelling.
And then? We wait. Eyes tightly shut hoping that sleep comes as quickly as possible so the morning could come sooner.
And, when morning came, we found the tooth gone, taken away to where all the teeth go in Fairyland. (Rumours in this house include how the Tooth Fairy has a nice little property development racket on the side and likes to build houses out of them.) Also, a letter, in perfect Fairy handwriting, telling my son he was doing a grand job of keeping his teeth clean, how he should keep being very good for Mummy and Daddy (I particularly liked this part) and how she was sure she’d see him again soon seeing as she noticed there were a few more wobbly teeth tucked away in that perfect little face.
The £2 coin was discovered, waved around excitedly and placed with loving care in the money box, in the hope that all this tooth money can be put towards something super exciting and most likely football related. One happy little boy, with now a real mish-mash of teeth making the kind of smile that makes Tooth Fairies, not to mention Mum’s and Dad’s proud and a little bit heart-melty.
This family haven’t stopped believing, have you?