Photo courtesy of Loadmaster, aka David R. Tribble
Despite the fact that LO is still several years away from losing his first baby tooth, I have nonetheless recently become quite concerned about what his expectations will be for me--that is, the de facto Tooth Fairy--once that time comes.
You see, the students I teach at our Synagogue's Hebrew School are all about 9 or 10, which is the tail end of the Tooth Fairy age spectrum. One lost a tooth in class recently, and I asked her how much her tooth was worth on today's market. I was stunned by her answer:
At the risk of sounding like an old fogey, back in my day in the mid-80s, teeth were worth a buck each. (I suppose I shook my head in wonder at the fact that my parents were only able to get a shiny quarter per tooth in the bad old 50s).
While I realize that a single dollar bill will not spend nearly as far these days as it did when I was a kid, I also think that there is such a thing as overvaluing basically useless items. (We never have discovered why the Tooth Fairy is interested in collecting all these teeth in the first place, have we? Obviously, used eye-teeth and incisors must have some utility for her, else she would never have started the tradition of paying cold hard cash for them. But I can't think of any legitimate uses for former chompers--can you?)
I suspect that I (and Ms. T. Fairy) will have to move with the times when LO's teeth start migrating away from his gums. I might find myself ponying up a fiver per tooth, just because leaving anything other than a single bill seems a little prosaic when the experience of trading teeth for money is supposed to have an aura of magic. (Really--can you imagine finding two dollars and two quarters under your pillow? It would be like the Tooth Fairy was trying to make change. Not to mention the added lumpiness factor to your pillow.)
But let me tell you, I'm never crossing the sawbuck Tooth Fairy threshhold. I don't care how steep tooth inflation gets.