Beware the Tooth Fairy

*NOT FOR KIDS*

For some reason, the last thing I still believed in as a kid was the Tooth Fairy.  I understood how Santa worked, but for the life of me I could not understand how my mom could possibly steal the tooth from under my pillow without waking me up.  There’s no way.  It had to be some mystical creature.

I was determined to catch this babe... or my mom, I guess... in action and put this whole matter to rest once and for all!

The next time I lost a tooth, I gave myself a pep talk, telling myself that I was only going to be a light sleeper that night.  Ha ha ha…that didn’t work.  I sleep through sirens, barking dogs, the alarm going off, the apocalypse, thunderstorms, seismic activity.  It’s amazing I make it to work on time every morning. 

That being said, I didn’t wake up for the Tooth Fairy.

When I lost my next tooth, I stepped up my game.  I put the tooth in a plastic container that made it uncomfortable to lay my head on.  The fairy would have to pull the thing out and let my head drop… which she must have done, but I didn’t wake up for it.

Well, as my supply of baby teeth diminished, my methods became more extreme.  I would put the tooth in a plastic capsule; drop that in a kid’s size plastic trashcan filled with loose Legos; duck taped the lid on; put the whole trashcan inside a bigger trashcan - upside down mind you, so that the tooth fairy had to pull the whole thing out; filled that trashcan with Lego, too; and then duct take that lip on!  I don’t even think I bothered with a pillow anymore.  I could go without for one night if I meant finally catching this woman.

… It didn’t work.  The tooth fairy hadn’t even taken the duct tape off.  She must just have to touch her wand on the trashcan, and it displaces the tooth with cash or something.  I don’t know how it works, but there was no way in hell my mom could have done it.

Obviously the trashcan method wasn’t working.  I needed to do more, like stay up all night or use my motion sensor frog as a security alarm, leave the lights on, something!

But then I started thinking… 

Why does this lady collect teeth?  Doesn’t that sound a little messed to you?  I mean, I understand the whole benevolent, “give the child money for loosing something,” but she’s keeping those things! All of them, and from every kid!  Why?!  Does she have a lair of bone necklaces?  Does she make grotesque sculptures out of them?  Or does she put them in her mouth, making row after row after row of teeth like a shark?!

What kind of person are we letting into our house?!  Why would I ever want to see what she looks like?!!

I started picturing what she must look like, and it scared the crap out of me.  A pretty fairy would show up in the daylight.  A harvester of discarded bones from the mouths of sleepy children would have pasty white flesh, an elongated face, and a jaw wide and deep enough to house all of our teeth.  She’s have leathery wings riddled with tears and holes, and long boney hands and fingers.

Your parents say you have to be asleep when she arrives.  But they also say you have to be asleep so that the Boogieman doesn’t get you either…

I was, and still am, convinced that the Tooth Fairy and the Boogieman are the same creature, this hideous thing that emerges from the closet once you’re asleep to snatch away your lost teeth.  It is a frightening thing to behold, and if you ever do, it will drag you into the darkness of your closet as punishment for discovering its secret, and your parents will never see you again…

I left the last of my baby teeth on top of my dresser, on the opposite side of the room, easily accessible, and in plain sight.  If I heard any noise in my room, I kept my eyes closed, and pretended to be asleep.

Don’t ever let the Boogieman catch you awake.