Chicken Noodle lost her third tooth yesterday. Old hat at this tooth fairy business and growing more savvy by the moment at the ripe old age of six-and-a-half, last night at bedtime she crawled into bed, pencil and paper in hand, and jotted this note.
Daer tooth Fariy,
Can I still get muny if I don’t give you my tooth? just so you no I’m not going to give you my tooth. Also I have a note for signing by you. Love libby from libby”
Note the added touch of a contract for the fairy to endorse, ensuring that there would be no going back on this unique deal in the future.
I feel there are lessons to be learned here, especially since the Tooth Fairy not only left the tooth exactly where it was under Miss Noodle’s pillow, but also deposited two dollars and a nice personal note granting her wish. (The handwriting was familiar, eliciting vague memories of love notes once written to me by Captain Daddy. But that was a very long time ago, and I couldn’t be certain of the comparison.)
Might we all be asking a bit too little from our own personal universe of wish granting fairies? I will ponder this today as I figure out where to keep greying bits of toothy bone not carted off by the tooth fairy, that old softie.
