The Tooth Fairy

We have a unique relationship with the tooth fairy in our house.

The first time she came to our house, she took the tooth and left $5.

The second time she came to our house, as expected, she took the tooth and again left $5.

But unfortunately for M, who really behaved poorly the day she received the loot for the 2nd tooth, the tooth fairy came back. And she proved herself to be a vengeful tooth fairy. She put the tooth back and took the $5 back. Whoa.

M learned a hard lesson that day. The Tooth Fairy Does. Not. Play.

M has gone on to lose several teeth since Tooth-Gate, and she has yet to lose her next-morning loot from the Tooth Fairy a second time.

The other evening, M left the Tooth Fairy a note.

Dear Tooth Fairy, Thank you for giving us money every time we lose a tooth. By the way, what is it like being a tooth fairy?

Dear Tooth Fairy, Thank you for giving us money every time we lose a tooth. By the way, what is it like being a tooth fairy?

The Tooth Fairy responded!


I’m not decoding this. I know you can read it.

I’m not decoding this. I know you can read it.

M was very happy with this. She keeps the note from the Tooth Fairy next to her bed, and reads it every night. Last night I was in her room with her and she said, “I have another note I wrote the Tooth Fairy but I didn’t give it to her.”

Dear Tooth Fairy, I’m upset because of how I treated my family. So if you want, take all of my money.

Dear Tooth Fairy, I’m upset because of how I treated my family. So if you want, take all of my money.

Damn it. We are the worst!

Sometimes I wonder if we take things too far. I’m guessing no Tooth Fairy in the history of Tooth Fairies ever took money back and returned a tooth. I probably just cost my first born a few extra 50 minute hours on the couch. It’s reminiscent of that time the Elf on the Shelf and his buddies (Mr. Chocolate and Mr. Candy from Hershey Park, a.k.a. the Hershey Bar stuffie and the Reese’s stuffie) were all wearing frowns one morning. M cried.

Anyway, M said last night, “A girl in second grade told me that there is no Tooth Fairy, and that it’s really just your parents who take the tooth and put money under the pillow.” Who the hell is this second grade buzz-killington. Sorry that your parents suck so bad that they had to ruin your life, but losing a tooth is a right of passage. Unless it falls out from meth-mouth. Then it’s just sad.

Anyway, I was able to say with a totally straight face, and actually mean it, because I am a Terzis*, the following statement:

“M, if I was the Tooth Fairy, do you REALLY think I would give you $5? I’d give you a penny.”

She said, “Oh yeah, that’s true.”

*The Terzis cheapness trait is an exceptional inherited trait. It’s a constant battle to fight what’s flowing in my DNA. The Terzis cheapness is responsible for hundreds of rotten bananas eaten, many pennies spotted and retrieved in the middle of major highways, dozens of questionable motel stays in the 1970’s and 1980’s, a warped interpretation of the “free, take one” sign, a stint in Disney Jail (you didn’t even know such a thing existed, did you? I do, I lived it,) a decades-long secret way into NYC to avoid the tolls, the family mantra to “eat around the mold,” staying on a beach in Greece filled with cigarette butts in a hotel with a Pick Up Artist Convention, Nissan koozies, 417 TD Bank pens in your junk drawer, your father falling down the stairs at a hotel because he was avoiding handing his bag over to a bellhop, never setting foot in a NYC cab when you can just walk 40 miles, your spice cabinet containing 547 sugar packets from McDonalds, running the gas tank beyond empty because gas is cheaper over the Georgia line, being the only family in Connecticut to not have call-waiting, and almost sinking on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean.