Killing off the Tooth Fairy

At what stage do you burst your children’s bubble by telling them Santa and tooth fairies don’t exist? 

I’m tired of running around in efforts to support these little beliefs. Yesterday I was almost late for work as I had to stop by the service station to get money from an ATM, all because one of  Rudairo’s teeth had fallen out and she was very excited about getting money from the tooth fairy. 

She had even paid back the R7 she owed me from months ago, in anticipation of the money she would find under her pillow the next day. One of her friends had told her she got a staggering R200 from her tooth fairy, and Rudairo was distressed to think that her own fairy was a miser who only gave R50. She came up with a plan to ensure this time around the tooth fairy wouldn’t tighten her fist so much – by putting some healthy snacks under the pillow next to the tooth. 

The tooth fairy’s snacks

When I went to perform my fairy duties at midnight, I found 3 grapes and a piece of lettuce, all discoloured from a full day under the pillow, my poor baby. That tugged at my heartstrings and I ended up coughing up a little more than I’d budgeted. Now she thinks the healthy treats did the trick, and is planning to add more when her next tooth falls out so she can get even more. Meanwhile, she has 2 wiggly teeth. I’m quaking in my boots. 

It was the same story last Christmas. She wrote on Santa’s list that she wanted an elf. I’d no idea where to find one. Eventually I saw a few at the Crazy Store and decided I’d do the shopping on Christmas Eve so that she wouldn’t see it when she went through my stuff as she always does. When I went back, the elves were all gone. I almost wept.

I ended up walking the length and breadth of nearby malls until I found an elf. I was so thankful and relieved I only fell short of kissing the shop attendant’s feet. 

Christmas morning ….  She was happy Santa had delivered, and I was happy too. 

The naughty elf that prances about the house

Then she told me that elves are naughty and are known to shift positions on the shelf when everyone goes to bed. To humour her, I’ve been busy moving the elf around so that she can be thrilled in the morning. We’re in a pandemic and there’s not much fun to be had anywhere else, remember. 

Now with more loose teeth in the pipeline (which she’s now wiggling with renewed vigour), plans to bribe the tooth fairy into being more generous, and changing the elf’s poses every night, I feel motherhood has become an extreme sport for me. 

Never mind the so-called ‘devastating loss of innocence’.  I want the truth to set me free.  

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Safrea or its members.


2 Responses

  1. Oh, Charlotte, you had me screeching with laughter. Reminiscing about the era of my own tooth fairy, I’m eternally grateful for the time when I was happy with 50c. I think you could still buy Cream Soda, a packet of Simba and two Wilson toffees, and it was like a treasure trove. We had simple lives with simple pleasures at the time.

  2. This made me laugh so much I almost cried. Lovely piece that any parent would relate to in full.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *