We have a little problem at our house. Santa Claus works out fine each year, but we have, literally, the worst tooth fairy ever. I don't know what is up with her. (when I say "her" I mean it to be gender-neutral for obvious reasons) Our tooth fairy has been know to "forget" about dried-up, nasty teeth under little boy's pillows for days and days. These are the same little boys who, in their prayer right before they lay down at night, BEG for the tooth fairy to not be too busy to make it to our house. Last week Braeden lost a tooth - the first one he'd ever pulled out completely on his own. This was a supernal moment for him, and he immediately began talking about the impending visit from the ever-so-lame tooth fairy. When he woke up the next morning, true-to-form, the tooth in the zip-loc bag was still under there . . . and no money. He protested to Traci. Since Traci and I are the tooth fairy's helpers she encouraged him to go back and look again. (of course she offered this suggestion after she had "visited" the pillow herself) To Braeden's shock, and glee, there was a dollar now, magically, under the pillow. But he was suddenly confused too.
You see, the tooth in the baggy was still there.