Tooth Fairy Saga Continued

The next night comes and I know I now have to collect the tooth fairy’s change, (which the children dutifully provided from one of their money boxes), and also reply to their questions.

The question is what do I tell them? Where do the fairies get the money from? I imagine swarms of pickpocket tooth fairies with swag bags going through wallets and purses and buzzing down the back of sofas. They steal it? Nah – not sure that gives quite the right message. I wrack my brains. What about where they live? What is the official line?– at the bottom of the garden? Should I consult with the other tooth fairies in the neighbourhood to get our facts straight? Maybe I should stay non-specific and put “fairy land of course!” (with imagined tinkling laugh.)

Of course my delaying tactic of the night before (or that morning) had only escalated the problem – and given me more time to think about it. I also had another letter to answer,which had been left with the change. This one repeated the request for chocolate, on the condition they were very good, and had a PS, “can you leave us some fairy dust to prove your (sic) real?” It also, rather touchingly, said they hoped my busy night was ok. There was an ‘I Love You’ note from Emilia as well, done in fairy style, using curly handwriting she had copied from my letter, presumably so the fairies would be better able to read it.

Mark would have just said an outright no to the chocolate, fairy persona notwithstanding, but it was up to me, and I am a soft touch, fairy or otherwise, and hadn’t the heart to refuse them.

I meant to buy some chocolate that day but did not get round to it. It is important that the chocolate, supposedly from the fairy, can’t be chocolate that they may have already seen in the house.

A friend came to the rescue and gave me two bars of Kinder chocolate, (unbranded in clear plastic) 4 blocks in each, and satisfyingly resembling teeth. I decided to just leave the one bar between them, which meant I had to eat the other myself, in case they came across it at a later date and made the connection. Once I’d disposed of the evidence pointing to Mummy being in possession of fairy chocolate, I set about drafting my fairy letter reply. I tried to keep it short but it still took ages putting the curly bits on every single letter of every word. I said no, regrettably, to being their pen pal, claiming the night was too short to even keep up with replying to the notes left with teeth. I told them there were boy fairies, and to tell Pat I mustn’t give away our fairy secrets, (thereby getting out of answering his questions altogether.) Finally, I wrote that I would leave chocolate just this once, but don’t eat too much, as we like shiny, white teeth, not ones with holes in. I thanked them for the change and signed off,  Love Tina the Tooth Fairy.

Then I remembered about the fairy dust. My first thought was to use glitter, but I decided that was too obvious. I settled on using my sparkly mauve eye shadow some of which I brushed into a small paper packet for them. I then put the chocolate, letter and fairy dust under Patrick’s pillow and went to bed.

I did ask myself several times that evening, what on earth are you doing? These are ridiculous lengths to go to just to keep the tooth fairy myth alive!

I remember my brother once trying to rumble Father Christmas. He tied a piece of string from his stocking to his big toe, under the duvet, so when Father Christmas picked up his stocking to fill it, it would yank his toe and wake Nicholas up in time to catch Santa in the act. This would have been a genius idea if it hadn’t been for the fact Nicholas had then gone and told Dad of his plan. He woke up in the morning and was extremely disappointed to discover the string had been neatly snipped in the night and his plan foiled.

The positive effect of the Tooth Fairy debacle was that the children felt they needed to earn the chocolate they had been brought by being good. By the time we woke up, the younger three had dressed, made their beds, emptied the dishwasher and brought Mark and me cups of tea in bed (up two flights of stairs.) Only then did they ask permission to eat the chocolate.

So perhaps it was worth all the effort. Although, after all that they never even mentioned the fairy dust!

Afterwards, Ben had a read of my fairy note, looked across at me, then gave a knowing wink and sly thumbs up. "What?" I asked innocently "Don't you believe in the tooth fairy then?" He rolled his eyes. I think he might be onto me.