Dear Tooth Fairy,
Last week Farrah Abraham’s daughter lost a tooth. She got 600 dollars. Last night my daughter lost a tooth. She got five dollars. Now I’m not trying to stir the pot. I know you are a very busy lady, and if you are anything like my children’s teachers, you likely spend a lot of your free time fielding complaints from the parents of the children you work with. I wish I could let this slide, but I’m sensing something a little fishy, and as a mother I feel it’s my duty to at least voice my concerns.
When my daughter bounded out of her room at 6:00AM this morning with a note and five dollar bill clutched in her hand, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit slighted. Five dollars. That’s it! I thought as I surveyed her tight grasp on Abraham Lincoln’s face. My daughter was grinning so widely I could almost see her first missing molar as she announced “The tooth fairy gave me FIVE whole dollars!” I scowled back at her but managed to hold my tongue for fear of the obscenities that may or may not have left my lips had I allowed myself to speak at that moment. Was the tooth not shiny enough? Had it not been brushed or flossed enough? Was it the fact that she ran out of mouth wash several months ago and no matter how many times “Kids Act” was written on the shopping list, I just couldn’t manage to remember to bring a bottle home to her? I just need to know what exactly crossed your mind as you entered her bedroom through the window, reached in to your wallet, and decided to go for the fiver rather than the wad of hundreds I know you have sitting around in there.
As you may have realized already, this tooth of my daughter’s is the first tooth she has ever chosen to give to you. Several years ago her older brother read a book called Throw Your Tooth on the Roof. Since he had always found you a little creepy, he decided to throw his teeth on the roof rather than allowing you entry to his bedroom. Naturally my daughter followed suit for her first 10 teeth, and it was only after some prodding from friends, as well as hearing about the cash incentive, that she decided to finally let you have a tooth (I know of your affinity for teeth and I have no doubt you likely found the others on the roof and took them home to your castle – unpaid). So you see, although this was my daughter’s eleventh tooth, this particular tooth was a very special one.
Now don’t get me wrong, had anyone asked me several weeks ago I would have thought five was a perfectly acceptable amount to give a child. I would have even thought it a little high! But after I heard about Little Sophia’s golden money-spinners, I polled a few children I know, and found that you were giving crisp twenties to many of the neighbor children.
I know you’re likely thinking about how content I was with the quarter you gave me as a girl. And yes that’s true. I was happy. It was big and round and shiny. And I, along with all the other quarter receiving kids of the eighties, were blissfully unaware that some teeth in the world were valued at more than twenty five cents.
I’m not sure what the best practice here would be. Perhaps as a mother I must simply learn to accept the disparity in tooth prices just as I learned to accept the disparity in jeans sizing. I realize giving every child 600 per tooth is likely not a reasonable solution considering supply and demand. I’m just feeling a little shafted and am hoping you can help me work through my big feelings on this.
And also, you forgot to close the bedroom window. Are we air conditioning the out doors here?
Thank you for your time,
Mother of a Small Bill Receiver