According to this Paper of Record, Kina’s lower left incisor started wiggling on January 22, over a month ago. We would periodically forget that it was wiggly, then be reminded suddenly as Kina’s mouth squirmed on the couch while she fussed at the tooth with the tip of her tongue. Just over a week ago, we reported on the “good news” of Kina’s still-wiggly tooth (and the solemn end of carnival).
Yesterday, “just after pack-up”, Kina’s tooth finally fell out, as her jubilant classmates cheered her great accomplishment. The tooth came home in an envelope. The envelope came home in a backpack. The backpack came home on the back of a newly-untoothed child whose first question was where she would have to put the envelope in order to be found by the Tooth Fairy.
The Tooth Fairy is the one myth we have not shattered. I’m not sure why. It’s probably because the Tooth Fairy is the only imaginary creature whose sole interest is Kina—and Kina’s teeth, specifically.1 There’s something transactional about the Fairy that is fascinating, and I should by all accounts dislike the idea of the Fairy, but the Fairy delivered as expected. Having once delivered a million-dollar bill, she dropped her rate to a mere ten dollars (nine dollars more than I typically received from the same fairy, though that was over 40 years ago).
Kina was nonetheless pleased, and the Fairy, ten dollars lighter and with a tiny new tooth (which may or may not now be resting on a tray atop my dresser) wedged into the top of her magic wand, flew on to exist for another day.
If there were, like, a Birthday Capybara or something, I would probably get behind that mythical creature, too.