It happened once, I was about seven, it was magical. I lost a tooth and showed it to my mom. The next morning I discovered that a rat had carried 5 shillings and a peculiar sweet and quietly tucked them under my pillow. I was amazed at how the little fella carried this hefty package. I imagined how he’d climbed up staircases, scurried round corners and pushed my bedroom door open or maybe squeezed in through a tiny opening to deliver my package.
I lost another tooth, put it under my pillow and didn’t tell a soul. The next morning, the tooth was still there. I turned pillows, blankets and sheets upside down - alas! There’s wasn’t a gift in sight. Lost between shock and devastation, I wondered what ever could have happened. Was he killed in the line of duty?
Years later I figured out that the conspirators. I forgave them eventually.
Fast forward to my own home. Not keen on the drama, I kept it simple. You lose a tooth, I give you something small to celebrate .
But word of the tooth fairy spread from classrooms to the dentist, to my home.
“mummy? Is the tooth fairy real? “
“No, my dear!” I shut it down or so I hoped. But as I walked away I caught a little twinkle in the eye, the hope that maybe, just maybe this magic was real.
I tried that night.
Next morning :
“Mummy?”
“Yes my dear”
“The letter? You wrote it.”
“How did you know?”
“The hearts”
“I tried.”
“Yes. That’s okay. At least you
tried. Thank you. I’ll save the money.”
Hug!
I got an A for effort.
