Yesterday at breakfast our daughter lost her fourth tooth. I took a picture, we high-fived, she cleaned her tooth and put it in her little tooth treasure box. Later, her little brother put the box under her pillow for her. She added a special note that she wrote to the Tooth Fairy, asking the Tooth Fairy to work with Santa to fulfill a special wish (she’s a planner, our daughter).
Last night my husband and I both went in to kiss the kids good night, they were nearly fully asleep.
And then we turned in.
And this morning, at 6:30 am, both kids came running to our room, with our daughter exclaiming,
“The Tooth Fairy didn’t come! My tooth and my note are still there!”
She wasn’t mad, or sad, just shocked. We too, were shocked.
My husband wondered if there were some sort of Tooth Fairy holiday that we didn’t know about. I wondered if the Tooth Fairy were delayed due to weather or some extremely high number of children who lost teeth. We continued to ask questions and pose scenarios as I nonchalantly went into my closet to get a sweater.
I headed to the kitchen to start breakfast, and my husband kept talking. Later he walked past me, we exchanged a look. He looked at our daughter.
“Are you sure the Tooth Fairy didn’t come?”
“Yes, I’m sure, I looked everywhere, Dad!”
“Let’s go double-check….”
They marched off to the kids’ room.
“What!? She came! She came just now!”
We determined that our daughter, by waking up several times at night (she told us she did so, to see whether the fairy had come), and by coming into our room this morning before the sun came up (her brother pointed out, with authority, that the Tooth Fairy is nocturnal), that the Tooth Fairy simply didn’t have a chance to come while our girl was asleep. So she snuck in while we were all talking about her in Mom and Dad’s room.
I almost wish it were a Saturday, so that she wouldn’t have to go to school and risk telling her Tooth Fairy story within earshot of some more worldly second-grader. Though that’s happened before: she’s told me that other kids don’t believe in the Tooth Fairy and say it’s just parents doing all the tooth switching. I looked at her.
“Well, I believe in the Tooth Fairy. After all, what would I do with your teeth?”
She rolled her eyes. “I know! The Tooth Fairy is the one who wants them.”
Faith and trust are such beautiful, humbling things.
Diary of a Corporate Wife 
One of Morgan’s classmates told her that the Tooth Fairy is really your Mom. Morgan looked at her and confidently said: “The Tooth Fairy gave me $1. My Mom doesn’t have any money.” Relish these years of innocence, they are filled with wonderful memories.
Honesty and chutzpah. Cherished indeed!
Yes – we’ve done the ol’ morning switcharoo many times. I’ve even done it with them still in bed, when I come in to wake them up – a quick slip of the hand under the pillow.
Ha! Verity, I don’t know how you do it. This was just our third tooth, you must have gone through a couple dozen by now!