“All I want for…”

Subtitled: Don’t call me Fang.

Cate finally conceded to let me yank gently pull her two front teeth. Those loud howls you heard coming from a bathroom in Minnesota? That wasn’t us.

My children’s baby teeth have incredibly long roots. They do not come out of their own volition. They do not come out without…assistance.

And so yesterday afternoon, after many days of wheedling and cajoling on my part, Cate agreed to let me at ‘em. She had been inspired that morning at—of all places—her brother’s baseball game, where our friend Mrs. H. convinced her.

Mrs. H. (pictured holding a St. Juan Diego doll in this post) told Cate about her family’s tradition growing up in Puerto Rico, where it is not the tooth fairy that pays the children a visit but rather, a little mouse.

That was all it took; Cate conceded.

(Well, not really. In addition to the inspiration of Mrs. H., Cate was also permitted to hang onto a well-loved, well-worn blankie from her early youth, which I willingly brought out of storage for the occasion.)

The procedure went forward without incident. Her two front teeth, which for days had been flapping back and forth like shutters and distracting her (that is to say, distracting me) were no longer. Cate gazed in wonder at the toothless wonder reflected back in the mirror.

In short, she was delighted.

Here is an excerpt from the letter she wrote to the tooth fairy:

I was very brave when my mom pulled my teeth out! I held my favorite blaket. It hurt a little at first but then it feels a little funny.

PS. I don’t think my brothers belive in you.

And here is a (very lengthy) excerpt from the (very long-winded) tooth fairy’s reply:

Your mother left me a little note along with your nice letter and told me what you’ve been up to these days. I am sorry that you’ve had pink eye! Still, it sounds like you’re having a very fun summer and I’m happy to now be a part of it.

Your mother also told me about your friend, Mrs. H. Please tell her that I know the tooth fairy mouse! He is a good friend of mine and is still taking good care of all the little children in Puerto Rico.

He told me to tell you this story* that is one of his favorites:

Once upon a time there was an oyster in the ocean. This oyster was heartbroken because he had lost the beautiful pearl he made.

You know oysters make pearls, right?

The oyster shared his sorrow with an octopus who lived nearby. “I am sorry that you lost your pearl,” the octopus said. “What did it look like?”

“It was hard, white, smooth and shiny!” replied the oyster.

“I will do what I can to help you find it,” said the octopus, and off he went.

The octopus swam along the ocean until he found a kind old sea turtle. “Kind turtle,” the octopus said. “Oyster has lost his pearl. Will you help us find it?”

“Certainly!” the sea turtle said, and he swam off straightaway.

He swam along the shore, searching high and low for the oyster’s pearl. Soon he met a little mouse by the name of Ratoncito Perez. He asked Ratoncito to help him in the search for Oyster’s pearl and Ratoncito raced off to the village by the bay. On the way, he found a tiny little button buried in the sand. Could this be it? No. It was shiny, white and smooth but it was not hard.

He found a small pebble by the road. Could this be it? No. It was hard, white and smooth but it was not shiny.

He found a small coin in the marketplace. Could this be it? No. It was hard, smooth and shiny but it was not white. The little mouse put the coin in his pocket. (He was not dumb, after all!)

He scooted up the side of a quaint little cottage and into the bedroom window of a boy named Mario. There, on Mario’s dresser, was the tooth that Mario had lost that night.

Ratoncito was overjoyed! The tooth was hard, white, smooth and shiny! He took the tooth, leaving the coin behind, and Oyster was very pleased with this new treasure.

I hope you liked that story, Cate! You are a good little girl and I was happy to share it with you.

PS. You tell your brothers that I do exist and that it is quite boring of them not to believe in me.

*The tooth fairy found this story online (crudely translated from the Spanish original) and had a lot of fun rewriting it.

(So I hear. Ahem.)

She didn’t leave Cate money, though.

She left something better: something little, and plastic, and bright, and big-eyed.

Yep. Littlest Pet Shop.

How did she know?

Ad Jesum per Mariam,