The tooth fairy saga: day 2 – you little shit

As noted last night after losing the lost tooth a letter with a gold dollar was placed under a sleeping child’s pillow. This morning started like a normal day, I was getting out of the shower when I was informed that the youngest had come up to have the letter read to her and was wondering where her coin was.

It was gone. She said she’d looked all over. Oh lerd…

I went down, looked around and re-read the delivery/retrieval notification and she said she had heard something fall onto the floor. I could buy this and we looked around for a bit and I told her I’d open up an investigation into the tooth retrieval service and make sure they had proof of delivery. Little turd listened the entire time and agreed that opening up an investigation into the delivery fairy was the right course of action.

I had some doubts here that she’d lost this – having taken a tooth out, lost the tooth, then an envelope with a coin in it losing the coin, and having no issues with a fairy having its life upended and reputation possibly impugned, things… well, I decided to run a test.

Tooth fairy retrieval mid management letter to my punk

I grabbed another one of the coins and was talking to her. She was in the living room, I was in the kitchen. From that point I threw a coin into the hallway and asked her to investigate as it sounded like it had come from her room. She went, I got in there about 10 seconds later, no coin. Nothing. Either dollar coin #2 was never found or, as I highly suspect, someone’s hiding teeth, coins, and working at blaming a poor tooth retrieval agent.

We’ve now discussed what internal affairs and being placed on administrative leave is and the 6yo toothless wonder seems to be fine with an investigation that could potentially ruin a fairy’s life commencing. I am really unsure of how far this little psychopath is willing to let the fairy retrieval specialist go down the road of administrative investigations, but I guess we’re going to find out tonight.

There used to be a camera in my kiddo’s room. There isn’t now. She just realized that today supposedly and now all this is happening.

I guess we’re about to introduce her to the administrative investigation arm of the tooth retrieval and delivery department of central incisor processing, unit 471 in Tennessee. Little shithead.

Paul King

Paul King lives in Nashville Tennessee with his wife, two daughters and cats. He writes for Pocketables, theITBaby, and is an IT consultant along with doing tech support for a film production company.