Teeth are falling out of mouths in our house at a rate of one a day: daughters 3 and 4 both lost a tooth this week, as did dog 2 who is teething. Step son has been told he may have to lose a few and seemed genuinely surprised when the dentist told him the reason for this was sugar. Mine are all still in tact at time of writing this, but there is definitely something in the air.
A year ago the tooth fairy stopped needing the teeth in our house for her fairy dust and now the loss of a tooth is just met with: ‘give us a pound please, mum’ and ‘shall I put it in the bin.’
Partner and I were truly shocking tooth fairies. Our record for leaving a tooth under a pillow was four nights – the tooth fairy was very busy that week too.
Tooth fairy scenarios became very elaborate with daughter 4 and that piled on the pressure. Letters were written, requiring replies and once a walnut shell bath was left out, with water and a piece of cloth as a towel.
I tried to stop being Father Christmas last year too. I thought I’d kill off two logistical birds with one stone. However, this was met with cries of mutiny, resulting in partner and I still creeping around the landing at 1 in the morning, eating mince pies, feeding the dogs carrots and drinking whisky. At least now though, we get proper thanks for our efforts – it used to kill me watching them open presents I’d sweated over choosing and buying and some bloke who doesn’t exist getting all the credit.