When you’re a parent, the difference between your home and a child-free one can be stark. If someone stumbled upon a collection of tiny teeth in a non-parenting household, they’d likely jump to the conclusion of a horror story rather than the whimsical notion of the Tooth Fairy.
Recently, while organizing my home, I unearthed baby teeth in the most unexpected places. It felt like I was in some twisted version of a crime scene. Molars, incisors, and even a few canines were scattered throughout my drawers, tucked away in the bathroom next to dental floss, and even lurking in a decorative holder in the kitchen.
The excitement of being the Tooth Fairy was exhilarating in the beginning. I fondly recall sneaking into my first child’s room, gently lifting their precious head to slip a glitter-filled envelope, a heartfelt note, and a crisp bill under their pillow. That was the magical routine for my first child, Ethan, and perhaps for the initial teeth lost by my daughter, Lily.
By the time my youngest, Noah, lost his teeth, the process had become remarkably casual. He would simply hand me the tooth, and I’d offer him whatever was in my purse at the moment. For his last tooth, I think he received a coupon for a sub sandwich, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?
Now that my children are older, my thoughts often wander to what to do with these tiny teeth. Should I toss them in the trash? Bury them in the garden? I can’t shake the image of future authorities finding a stash of teeth years later; I’ve watched more than enough crime shows to know how that plays out.
Sure, I could channel my inner DIY enthusiast and create a macabre piece of art with them, but I lack the necessary tools—or the desire to explain that to visitors. In these moments, I ponder what my more rational friends might do. The answer is clear: they’d likely toss the teeth without a second thought. Yet, I’m not ready to part with them. Perhaps it’s my sentimental nature or a family tendency to hold onto everything.
For now, the baby teeth have been corralled into a small bag and hidden away in a dresser drawer, sharing space with other oddities. If you think this is strange, please tell me I’m not alone. I can’t be the only one who has kept such peculiar memorabilia.
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In summary, while the fate of my children’s baby teeth remains uncertain, one thing is clear: these tiny keepsakes hold a sentimental value that I’m not quite ready to let go of yet.
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