The Big Hairy Tooth Fairy

About the Tooth Fairy and the Wisdom of Dads


The mighty Dwayne Johnson as The Tooth Fairy (2010). Dribble….

Much jubilation in our household recently as the eldest finally lost her first official* tooth! After much wiggling around and pointing it out to virtually everyone we met, it came out just after she went to bed. Clearly there was double jubilation as that meant she had exciting news and a legit reason to get out of bed for at least another ten minutes.

*I say it was her first ‘official’ tooth. The unofficial first tooth was lost in a freak plummeting accident almost 18 months ago when we first moved into our house.


There was a death-trap wall in the garden that was a sheer 4ft6” drop off the patio straight onto gravel. I’d eyed it warily upon moving in and laid out some old recycling boxes along it ready to fill with rocks and soil to provide a barrier and somewhere to grow a bit of veg. But the eldest was, as usual, far too fast for me and in no time she’d flown face first into the gravel. I might never forget the particularly dreadful wet thump as she hit the floor – like a sack of wet concrete. Nor the horribly laden silence before the first screams. A trip to A&E confirmed that – amazingly – only one tooth had been jettisoned and had either been swallowed or lost in the gravel.

Being without a tooth to give the Tooth Fairy made her sadder than actually losing it in the first place. Daddy went out to look for it in the gravel whilst we were at A&E and found several improbable stones more like mammoth molars. By outrageous chance, I found out that I’d been blessed by the fae with tooth-spotting eyes because when I got back I found it in five seconds flat. That night the tooth fairy set the bar rather high, maternal guilt mixing with elation to present the eldest with a pound AND a chocolate coin.

This time round, we found the Tooth Fairy to be somewhat defective. The eldest woke up wailing that the Tooth Fairy had forgotten her and left no money. A brief text flurry ensued with the big blokey hairy fairy to whom I’d entrusted the task whilst I scratted about for another pound. Mummy saved the day by ‘discovering’ it in the duvet and honour was saved. That Tooth Fairy is sacked though, leaving a Dwayne Johnson-shaped hole in our lives. So if he ever happens to be passing, he’ll find a welcome here. Just in case he’s reading, you never know…

So, panic over and the rest of the day lay ahead of us. But the eldest was moving slowly and sighing theatrically, a sure but subtle sign that something is not quite right. Finally, I got her to tell me.

“Mummy, what if no one thinks I’m beautiful anymore because I’ve lost some of my teeth?”

My heart broke and I was catapulted back some 30+ (ahem) years to my own childhood. I recalled hiding away and crying until my dad found me. I wailed as I told him that no one could ever think I was pretty if I had no teeth, especially as everyone kept telling me that I was going to lose them ALL.

Well, not all at the same time and others will grow in their place, I was told. And I’d always be the most beautiful little girl in the world to him. Besides, the ones that grow back are frilly! It turns out that those words of solace are pretty eternal. It was like my dad, who never had the chance to meet her, was speaking straight to her. She smiled and nodded, crisis averted.

Hope I did you proud, dad.

tiny toothHow tiny is that tooth??