To us adults, losing a tooth is scary. The mind cannot stay away from toothless witches, beggars, and the overwhelming dental costs. We hopefully try to protect our teeth from any kind of fall. But for kids, there is even more at stake. Three seemingly insurmountable questions are: how will the tooth come out, how will the tooth fairy get it, and how will money be received for the sacrifice of the tooth?

Our daughter Lailee had a wiggly tooth, and in every mirror, in every spare moment, she was amazed at how it wiggled. Why not, kids and movement, they are a team. The roadblock came with the apple…and the carrots…and whatever else is healthy to eat—which leaves the squishy stuff like ice cream, pudding, and jello. Lailee knew that with crunchy food swallowing whole was not the way to lose a tooth. Well, for sure, how many adults do get "squeamish" about swallowing the potential bones in canned salmon croquettes and loafs? Then there’s peanut butter sandwiches, but you might as well go to a dentist and get it pulled, or use the string and door fable.

Days went by and fears began to mount about would the tooth really come out, or was that a joke, and will the tooth fairy really come, or was that a joke. We decided to keep both ideas in the same trench, for now.

The upcoming tooth event prompted a lot of contemplation and learning. The value of a tooth to a tooth fairy seems to have gone up these days with everything else. How does the good fairy know if that potential tooth will bring in $1, or more? This is truly a ponderous decision to make…thinking about the succession of teeth (are there 25 or 32), and the total expenditures, or collections—whichever side you are on. We decided ahead of time to low ball at $2.00 just to be over the cheep $1.00 mark.

For Lailee, there was an insistence on preplanning. This was a good use of cause and effect as to how the pillow on top of the tooth will manage to protect the tooth but not prevent the fairy from finding it and leaving the treasure. Lailee decided, ahead of time, that she will provide a clean pillow case-- so the fairy will smile, a nightlight-- so there will be no mistaking as to who lost the tooth, and a gift beside the bed of (not candy or cookies) a wind up toy to make sure the fairy will be in a good mood for giving.

One day Lailee came home with a gap and a wail. The tooth was a goner. It bounced onto the playground at recess and now there was no evidence for the fairy. This was a tragedy…but as the sunny day provided a beam of light streaming through the glass door, and revealing an orange seed on the floor--a bit battered by the cats--miraculously, we knew we had a good tooth substitute. It will work, it will be fine, and we tried to convince her—to no avail.

Our luck, and to her credit, Lailee decided a last resort was to write a note to explain herself to the tooth fairy, and leave it under the pillow. Later during the night we retrieved the note that said: Dear Tooth Fairy. I am sorry this is a seed. My friend Justin knocked out my tooth at recess, and I couldn’t find it. Please leave the money.

With that we had to leave her a calling card back, complete with picture, which read, "Hey Lailee, no Sweat, saw it all happen and we’re cool" T.F. and $7.00—one for each year of her precious candor. It always pays to be honest.