Fairy Tale

My wife and I recently completed one of the more difficult financial transactions we have ever had to endure: We negotiated with the Tooth Fairy.
It was an exciting time leading up to the my daughter’s first tooth coming out. (Yes, “exciting” is relative. When you’re married with kids, wiggly teeth tends to get you all riled up.) My wife first noticed it and showed it to me. I immediately cringed and looked away. I don’t like seeing loose teeth, and for this I blame one of my sisters.
You see, one time when I was a child and had a loose tooth, one of my sisters decided she would help me get it out. The tools she would need: Some thread from Mom’s sewing cabinet and a doorknob.
I am not sure who actually came up with this idea, but it was clearly an older sibling. I wonder if such an extraction has ever actually worked. She sat me down in a chair and, for some reason, I let her tie the string around my tooth and then to the doorknob. And slam went the door. And nowhere went the tooth. What she WAS able to accomplish was to shred my mouth up with the door-slam speed of thread zipping across it.
I am not sure how that tooth (and any others) came out, but I assure you it was done without breathing a peep of it to my sister.
But ever since then, the idea of teeth coming out of your head? Just not so pleasant to me. But my wife insists that I take part in all of these defining moments. Since we have had kids, I have looked at more unpleasant things at my wife’s behest than I care to imagine. And I am not sure why. The conversation usually goes like this:
HER: Hey, take a look this.
ME: Ewww.
HER: Oh, quit being a dork. It’s your child. Does it smell funny?
ME: Ewww.
HER: Yeah, I thought so, too. Hmmm. We’ll keep an eye on it. So, what should we do for dinner?
I finally mustered up the courage to wiggle Allie’s tooth a little. Partly, I did this because in addition to my wife informing me that I was a scaredy-cat, my daughter was chiding me, too. There is just so much emasculation you can take from a 6-year-old before you belly up to the bar.
Once I confirmed what we already knew – yes, it’s loose; congratulations – I removed myself from the process. “Let me know when it falls out,” I told my wife.
A few days later, we were getting the kids ready for bed, when I went in the bathroom and saw my wife and daughter up close to the mirror, my wife looking as though she was trying to fit her entire hand in my daughter’s mouth. “Uh, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Grabble frobba toof,” Allie said.
“Trying to get the tooth out,” my wife translated.
I just left the room, thoughts of thread racing through my mind.
Apparently the tooth was still hanging in there, so they decided to let nature and gravity take its course. A few mornings later, we were awoken VERY early to a very excited girl, showing off her brand new gap-toothed grin. She was excited about the tooth finally coming out, but even more excited about the Tooth Fairy’s pending visit.
Later that day, it occurred to my wife and me that it had been many moons since the Tooth Fairy had paid us for our used body parts. (She is undoubtedly the inspiration for the kidney thief urban legend). Way back in our day, I believe the Tooth Fairy dealt in coins.
I considered setting the stage for coins by explaining to Allie something like, “Back when your mother and I were kids, the Tooth Fairy didn’t give us money. Instead she put us to work in the tooth mines. For every tooth we lost, we had to log 40 hours, breaking big rocks into smaller rocks and smaller rocks in new teeth. And if we stopped working for even a minute, she’d have the Easter Bunny come over and punch us in the small of the back. So be thankful for whatever you get, because it will undoubtedly be better than getting kidney punched by a giant rabbit.”
I was shocked when my master plan was vetoed. Instead, we started asking around, and found that inflation had driven the tooth industry well into the paper money realm. Anywhere from a buck on up to $5. The Tooth Fairy has apparently had some investing luck to be able to turn around that kind of dough.
We went back and forth on the issue (“Two dollars? Three?” “How about we go back to the tooth mine/Easter Bunny story?” “Why do I bother including you?”) and finally came to terms with the Tooth Fairy. She would be offering up $2 for each tooth. Allie was very pleased with the trade (although she did tell her aunt that she was hoping for something in the $5 range; good luck with that).
She is now checking her other teeth on a regular basis, since she has realized she can get straight up cash for her teeth. I need to remind her that it is a one shot deal, and getting her brother to knock out permanent teeth is no way to make cash. When the next one comes loose, I know she will be eager for it to fall out. I hope she doesn’t call my sister.