by Max Atiram
Who is this fairy of teeth who thinks it's appropriate to break into childrens' bedrooms late at night and steel their property? This was the question that haunted me during the time of my life when my teeth were falling out at a constant rate. Unlike most, I found it appalling that this "fairy" would take without permission and leave money without validation. Maybe I wanted my tooth. Maybe I didn't need the pocket change that was left under my pillow as a result of this "fairy's work." One day I decided to put my detective skills to the test and deductively reveal the tooth fairy for that crook she was. Had I put serious thought into this quandary, I would have been able to conclude that my parental were the ones exchanging my teeth for money; however, at the time, I wanted to catch this person red handed.
In mystery solving mode, I had gathered useful clues from previous canine and incisor exchanges. I knew the fairy in question did his business at night. It was an ideal time to go unseen with little or no movement in my house. Assuming that this was a stereotypical fairy with wings and a wand, she would need complete darkness to keep her anonymity. In addition, I had concluded that the crime occurred only when I was asleep. The fairy made no attempts to break in while I was lying in my bed or in the morning after I woke up. One night I was so anxious about unmasking this thief that I stay up all night; the culprit never came. Somehow this fairy knew exactly when and where I was sleeping. Maybe they had planted hidden cameras, or maybe they placed microphones in my room.
I realized that in order to catch the tooth fairy I would need to be alert and aware but also asleep. I would need to create a system of waking me up at the precise moment she entered my room. One night, after weeks of waiting for a lose tooth to finally "fall" out, I put my plan into motion. I snuck down to the back deck, cautiously scanned the area, and took the wind chimes from my backyard. I hooked the wind chimes to the back of my bedroom door so that any intruder could be heard. To guarantee a success, I also placed bubble wrap on the floor of my room, creating a makeshift security system.
That night, with wind chimes on my door and bubble wrap on my floor, I went to sleep (tooth under pillow) anxious about the pending revelation. I wasn't sure what time it was, but at some point during that night I heard a noise; it was the familiar sound of wind chimes followed by the recognizable crunch of bubble wrap popping. At that moment, I knew my plan had worked; the tooth fairy was in my grasp. I soon felt the hand of the fairy reach under my pillow to take my tooth. As the thief left, I realized that the tooth fairy was my mother. It had come to no surprises since I had suspected my mother for years; however, now I knew without uncertainty.
Instead of confronting my mother about her clandestine actions, I chose to keep that information to myself, hiding my mother's secret profession. I realized that if my mother went to such lengths to protect the tooth fairy's identity, then I should play along, pretending to be surprised each time I found money under my pillow.