The Tooth Fairy

Dearest Reader,

Because I didn’t enjoy the full awkward teenage experience ridden with acne and ridiculously large glasses, I have decided to get braces at the tender age of 29. I too will finally be able to share stories of pain, embarrassment, restrictive eating and social anxiety!

While I have never really bought into Santa or the Easter Bunny, I was a firm believer and supporter of the Tooth Fairy for most of my childhood. Unlike Santa and the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy really came through for me in difficult, toothless times.

Alas, she eventually ruined what could have been a lifelong friendship.

It was not until primary school that I finally saw her for who she truly was. My friends and I were all in the process of losing our baby teeth, one by one they fell and I was excited to wake up in the morning to find 5 Deutsche Mark, today worth around 2.50 Euros, under my pillow. It made the whole experience a lot less horrible.

However, I started to notice that my friends were receiving larger sums for the same tooth. At first I thought it could be because they are taller than me, perhaps the tooth was also bigger. After careful measurement of tooth gaps and comparative discussions on the pain levels and overall removal experience, it became painfully evident that there was no real difference. The Tooth Fairy was simply giving me a fraction of what everyone else got. Especially for the bigger teeth at the back, my friends received up to 15 or even 20 Deutsche Mark, while I was obviously subscribed to some inferior Tooth Fairy flat rate that made me feel small and insignificant.

I went home and decided to do what any other kid my age would have done: I decided to tell on her.

I sat down my parents and told them about my heartbreak and how unfair she had been. I voiced the possibility that the Tooth Fairy might be slightly racist, seeing as I was more on the brownish end of the colour-spectrum compared to my very white German pals. As I was talking myself into this, I cried at the injustice, at how my feelings had been hurt, and why God didn’t love me enough to give me the same sweet deal with the Tooth Fairy everyone else seemed to have.

It was that day that my parents confessed that the Tooth Fairy wasn’t real. What is more, they explained that it was them who didn’t throw in a few extra bucks. They comforted me with the fact that it wasn’t because they didn’t love me enough, but because we just don’t have that kind of money, and briefly explained the concept of social classes which I couldn’t really grasp considering that I was 8.

Although it had been explained to me, I always hoped it was all a lie and that the Tooth Fairy was real, and that one day she would reward me with some big apology.

Four rewardless wisdom teeth later, I finally believe my parents.


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