Tooth Fairy Fiasco

Yesterday really wasn’t the best time for Patrick’s tooth to come out. At first, he thought he had left it at school, but I later discovered it in his book bag, packaged up in paper with a message, ‘for the tooth fairy.’

On my calendar was the Secondary School Open Evening for prospective parents and pupils 6-9pm, followed by a Year 2 Mums' night out. So at some point in a bit of a busy evening, all I had to do was to swap the tooth from under his pillow for a pound. Not a tall order you might think. However, it is only Patrick’s second tooth to have fallen out so the whole tooth fairy thing is a bit of a novelty and there was great excitement about her anticipated visit.

After school was chaotic, with Ben trying to complete his numeracy homework and history project last minute, Emilia doing her numeracy and me trying to listen to Patrick and then Emilia read,( as I wouldn’t be there at bedtime to do it,) while burning the fish fingers. I was distracted trying to correct Ben’s spelling mistakes and was furiously rubbing out, and making him re-write bits of his awful handwriting. We nearly came to blows about the correct way to form the letter r (like a walking stick, not like a boating hook.) Meanwhile, I am also trying to get Emilia to pick out ‘exciting words’ from her reading book,  that apparently I have to write down in her reading record, as she is “not allowed to”!?!

Rachel was actually playing beautifully by herself in the living room, but making big mess in the process.

I hate trying to get out the house before 6pm. The chores just don’t get done. Usually by bedtime, the dishwasher is loaded and on, kitchen swept, toys tidied, downstairs hoovered, and I have nagged the children sufficiently that they have helped too, laid their clothes out ready for the morning and put their dirty clothes in the laundry. If I am not there, only some of it happens.

All the time, I am frantically trying to get things done, I can hear Patrick and Emilia plotting and writing a letter to the tooth fairy. Emilia is getting Rachel to do a drawing for the fairy, and they are writing down questions for her!

Bloody fantastic, I think, that is all I need, after a quite possibly, boozy night out, to come home to sit a tooth fairy test.

Must remember, must remember – money for tooth.

At ten to six, my Dad and Mum take over, and I dash out with Ben, leaving them with three half- bathed and pyjama’d children, and no instructions.

When we return after 9pm, there is some semblance of calm, the house is still a bit of a state, some dirty pants and socks haven’t made it to the laundry basket, the bath is still full of cold, dirty water and Emilia and Patrick are in bed together, but asleep.

I should have twigged at this point that they were together waiting for the tooth fairy to come, and I could have just delegated the task to Mark, but it went completely out of my head. We were having a ‘what did you think of the school’ debrief in the kitchen, while I tried not to be distracted by the remnants of that evening’s tea crunching unpleasantly under my feet. Mark and Ben were both heading for bed shortly, so I was free to join the Mums' Night. After slapping on some more make- up, I hurried out of the door to the pub. My tooth mission was forgotten altogether.

I got home late and removed a sleeping child from my bed, before falling into it myself.  At 6.15 am, a squiggling child, who has returned at some point in the early hours, demands a cup of milk. I struggle out of bed and make my way, bleary eyed down to the kitchen. I prodded Ben awake on the way past and suggested he might like to get up early and finish his homework before school. Surprisingly he did. I was going to go back to bed, but Rachel had other ideas.

I was helping her get dressed when Emilia came in and announced the tooth fairy hadn’t been yet.

Bugger, bugger – I hadn’t remembered to do it – but it was still dark, Patrick wasn’t awake yet – there was still time – except for the letter and the questions. How on earth was I going to manage this?

It is pretty standard practice in our house for the tooth fairy to come in the morning, once I have been reminded. I mostly forget that they have a tooth under their pillow, but children are gullible. I’ve done the coin in my hand – then, oh look here it is.... must have fallen down the side of the bed.... trick, but this was a little more complicated. I give the children a little velvet pouch to put the tooth in. It is mainly to help me find the tiny little tooth, otherwise I’d be feeling around under their pillow for ages and risk waking them. They rarely check if the tooth is still in there, they just notice the absence of money.

Anyway, while the children are distracted making toast in the kitchen, I surreptitiously dig out my purse. No pound coins – damn! There is a shiny two pound coin in there though. I contemplate the fall out of this; “How come Patrick gets £2, I only ever get £1”....etc,etc. I think for a moment, then tear off  a scrap of paper that’s to hand and write in my best curly writing with a short lead that has fallen out of a propelling pencil;

Dear Children

Busy night for teeth

Must fly

Leave me some change and I’ll be back tonight to answer your questions

       x x x x

Love the Tooth Fairy

Genius.

I am hidden in the bathroom at this point with the money and the note. Patrick has woken up now but has gone straight downstairs and not thought to check under his pillow. I have only seconds until Emilia reminds him. I hear a squabble in the kitchen about Patrick not wanting to eat the toast Emilia has made him, so satisfied I won’t be caught in the act, I sneak into Patrick’s room and make the transfer, taking the tooth and children’s letters, which I haven’t seen yet. I stuff the tooth in my pyjama pocket (which reminds me, it is probably still there) and the letters I shove in a drawer to read later, then I innocently jump in the shower.

I hear pounding feet as they race up the stairs, clearly having suddenly remembered. Patrick sees the £2 coin and squeals excitedly, “it is chocolate, it is chocolate.” I never leave chocolate – oh no, I thought, what had they written about chocolate? It would be quite wrong of the tooth fairy to leave chocolate, sweets rot your teeth, and make them fall out. In fact, I believe I may have even told them at some point that only greedy fairies leave chocolate, as they want more teeth. You have to have an answer for everything when they are comparing notes with other children. The Tooth Fairy who visits the kids up the road leaves real money and a chocolate coin apparently.

My sister complained recently “I can’t believe they get a whole pound! 20p is the going rate, that is all Charlie is going to get”

“You can’t do that,” I told her “what about inflation?”

“Surely that doesn’t affect the tooth fairy”

“Sadly, I think it does” I said.

My friend had warned me not to get into the whole Tooth Fairy letters thing. She didn’t really think it through and actually initiated the letter writing herself. When her eldest child lost his first tooth, she left money and a detailed letter beautifully and painstakingly scripted in special curly fairy writing. It was fun at first but of course she had to do it for another two children as well. It got to the point where if she went away, she had to leave an emergency letter, in case one of them lost a tooth in her absence, and someone else had to carry out tooth fairy duties.

I was determined not to do that. I thought, just keep it simple, swap a tooth for a shiny gold nugget (£1 coin) – job done.

I didn’t count on Emilia leaving notes when she’d lost a tooth, begging the fairy to write back. What kind of tooth fairy ignores a letter from a child? I was sucked in.

I have just looked at the letter Emilia wrote on Patrick’s behalf. It is a pity Patrick didn’t write it, as then the tooth fairy could have just written in reply

“Sorry Pat, can’t read your writing” and it would be all over.

Emilia wrote:

Dear the tooth fairy

Please will you send me Emilia and my brother pat some chocolate, it is pat who has lost his 2^nd tooth but there is some questions we want know.

Q

·        can I have a fairy pen pall – E

·        where do you live and where do you get the monney – P

·        Are there such things as boy fairys – if there are can I have a pen pall – P

Please reply on sheet of plain paper  (this was provided under the pillow)

from !

Emilia age 8  Patrick age 6  Rachel age 3

Enjoy present

The ‘present’ was essentially coloured scribbling from Rachel entitled

Drawing by sister Rachel – she said it was for you

Oh my life! No they can’t have a flipping pen pal. I am dreading any more teeth falling out as it is. Apparently children have 24 teeth and they lose 20 of them. I can’t believe it is that many and I hope that maybe many of those fall out after they stop believing in the tooth fairy. Apart from the hassle factor with 4 kids, that is £80 spent funding the tooth fairy. I think Liz might have a point about the 20p.