Tooth Fairy, I've Got Your Back

By Denise Adams

While rummaging around the kitchen drawer, I found an old cardboard jewelry box filled with shiny quarters and smiled, realizing it was my Tooth Fairy Emergency Fund. When our boys were young, I had to put the Tooth Fairy on probation more than once for forgetting to leave change underneath my sons' pillows, causing them to doubt her existence.

More than one frantic morning, I had to take up her slack. For our oldest child, the Tooth Fairy was extremely reliable, never forgetting to put four shiny quarters underneath his pillow. When our second son was losing baby teeth, occasionally the Tooth Fairy would slip. Early in the morning, I'd look for the telltale sign of fairy dust, hoping she'd remembered the little bitty tooth underneath my son's pillow.

Not seeing any hidden coins, I'd carefully slip a dollar underneath his sleeping head, hoping he wouldn't wake up and catch me bailing her out. I suppose the Tooth Fairy had a good excuse. After all, she has to fly hundreds of miles to fly during the night carrying a sack full of molars and bicuspids.

One occasion, she had a pretty lame excuse - no change in her pixie purse. I'd have given her money, but I didn't have any quarters or dimes either. So I looked underneath the couch cushions and came up with a dollar fifty in change, bailing her out just as my son woke up.

Once I neglected to check up on her, despite having reminder notes to myself taped to the refrigerator door and my bathroom mirror. Her oversight was brought to my attention by the sound of wailing coming from an upstairs bedroom.

"The Tooth Fairy forgot to leave me money," I heard my 3-year-old say. Vowing I'd let the Tooth Fairy have it the next time I talked to her, I quickly grabbed two one-dollar bills from my wallet, hid them in my hand and ran upstairs.

"Maybe you need to look again," I told my son, giving him a hug, hoping he wouldn't notice the folded up money in my palm.

"Let's look together. The Tooth Fairy might have dropped your money if she was in a hurry - she has lots of teeth to gather in one night," I said, leaning over the bed and quietly placing the bills on the floor.

"Look what I found!" I said pulling out the money - which two seconds earlier had been in my sweaty hand - from underneath his bed. "You must have pushed it under here when you were looking. The Tooth Fairy wouldn't forget you, honey. It's just that she's kind of busy," I said.

He bought that explanation hook, line and sinker. Another time, she wasn't so lucky.

Early one morning, I heard a familiar wail - "The Tooth Fairy forgot me," and once again, I started searching in my wallet for change. Empty. Not a quarter, not a dime, not a dollar bill was to be found. Thinking I'd have to write my son a check, I suddenly remembered my husband's wallet was still in his top dresser drawer. The only denominations he had were fives and tens. At this point, I couldn't be picky, so the Tooth Fairy was going to be extremely generous this morning.

Folding a $5 bill in my hand, I headed toward my son's room, hoping to recreate my normal modus operendi - give a hug, drop the money and miraculously find it. But my youngest child was too savvy for me. When I walked through the door, he was standing next to his bed, hands on his hips.

"I looked everywhere - underneath the pillow, underneath the bed, and I took the sheets off the bed. The Tooth Fairy just forgot," he said, frowning with displeasure at this forgetful fairy.

This time, I had to think fast to bail that pixie out of trouble.

"Look what I found right outside your door," I said, holding up the $5 bill. "The Tooth Fairy must've dropped it in a hurry to get to the next child who'd lost a tooth."

Smiling, he took the money.

"It's a good thing she's got you to back her up, isn't it," said my son.

I suppose we're all lucky - just in case the tooth Fairy forgot to make a stop at our house, there was a sleepy, forgetful mom who bailed her out of a jam. And the mornings I accidentally overslept, I counted on the Tooth Fairy's able assistant - who eerily resembles my husband - to back me up.

Who knows what could've happened if there weren't safety nets hiding underneath her pixie wings and my flannel robe. Don't worry, Tooth Fairy - I've got your back.

Denise Adams is a weekly columnist with The Herald-Coaster newspaper in Rosenberg, Texas.