My friend Lindsay has two little girls, one of whom lost a tooth over the weekend. Before the tooth fairy could come, the tooth… went missing. Fortunately, it had been found by morning.
Mine never was.
As far as I know, I only lost one tooth at school, and I’m not quite sure what happened to it. I can’t remember now if it came out, I put it in a pocket and dropped it, or if it came out on the playground and I didn’t notice that it had happened. I do remember, though, that I spent what felt like hours looking for it. I combed the playground methodically, walking slowly across the width of it, then turning at the end and walking back a few inches to the right. When my mother came to get me, I tried to convince her that I had to find my tooth before we could go home. She made me get in the car.
I was half-hysterical and sobbing. I’m sure I had plans for that tooth money. (I got a dollar. Eventually, it occurred to me that most of my friends got considerably less, and I began to question whether a real tooth fairy would pay differing ransoms for different children’s teeth.) We had some elk teeth, though, and a human tooth with a gold filling in it (which I believe had been my grandfather’s). “I’ll put one of these under the pillow!” I thought. “She’ll never know the difference!”
Mom didn’t think that was such a great idea.
Eventually, I settled for putting a note under my pillow, explaining the lost tooth.
In the morning, I got a dollar.
And I thought, “Hey, maybe I could just put a note like that under my pillow every night.”
Mom didn’t think that was a great idea, either.
Damn her, always being right.
