Because of this I had completely forgotten about the responsibilities that lay with the fairy, and so about six months ago, when twin girl came thundering and shouting into the bedroom with excitement that her tooth had fallen out I had to hit the ground running all over again.
The thing is that when your first child's first tooth falls out it is something of a milestone moment. The shiny pound coin (or sometimes more these days) is placed where you definitely wont forget it on the way up to bed. You may put a post it note to remind you, should you somehow get sidetracked. As the parent with tooth fairy responsibility you make absolutely sure that you do not forget and ruin your child's belief in an imaginary ethereal being who likes collecting old teeth (for what, we're not sure, which is kind of where the story falls down if you ask me) whatsoever.
With subsequent children
And so, what with hindsight being a wonderful thing and all, I was determined to make sure I didn't
And so, I set a reminder on my phone (Yay for smaprtphones! Didn't have them first time round). We put the tooth in a shiny little dish so that I/the fairy could find it in the dark. Twin girl went to bed.
At 10 pm the reminder went off on my phone and I put out a two pound coin (inflation apparently), took away the tooth. Job done. It was hardly a tricky thing really was it?
Twin girl was delighted the following morning with her coin and as there were no more wobbly teeth on the horizon from either her or her twin brother, I considered this a job well done.
Fast forward six months (bloody hell, this tooth fairy job is quite a long gig really, I had forgotten). We go to the dentists for a check up.
During the check up it transpires that twin girl has another three wobbly teeth and her brother has two, which he is delighted about because he is finally catching up.
This is going to cost me a fortune, I think.
The tooth fairy immediately revises her payment plan to £2 for the first tooth and £1 for every tooth thereafter.
Two weeks later, tooth number two falls out of twin girl's mouth. Her brother is highly affronted by this event.
So I prepare to do the whole tooth fairy routine again. Tooth, check, dish, check, excitable child with lots of questions, check. Sibling crying gently in corner of bedroom because it isn't his turn yet, che.. oh FFS, you get the picture.
Accidentally, or out of a misplaced sense of bravado at how brilliant my own memory is, I decide that the phone reminder isn't really necessary. Anyway, it's the weekend. They'd be going to bed later and so would we. I'll remember. It isn't that hard.
Spend 20 minutes scrabbling around for a pound. Realise that I only have 20 pence coins and five pence coins in my purse and they are not quite enough. Hit all the usual sources for spare change - husband's pockets, top of the bookcase, back of the sofa. Manage to scrape together enough money. Phew.
Go to bed.
Wake up the following morning at 7.30 am when husband innocently asks "you did remember to put out the money last night, didn't you?". Eyes wide open (too wide for this time on a Saturday morning) we both stare at each other while simultaneously mouthing "Oh, SH*T!!!".
We can fix this, we can fix this, we can, can't we?
Like some kind of stealthy tooth ninja, my husband somehow manages to walk past a completely awake child, who happens to be engrossed in something he is streaming on YouTube (who says letting six year olds have their own tablets isn't beneficial?) and switch the money/tooth before he is rumbled.
That was a close one. Never again. Although I could have deployed my much used ruse that the tooth fairy is usually too busy on a Friday night because she is quite partial to going to discos and doesn't have time to deliver money as well. She usually makes her rounds up on Saturday, but definitely by Sunday (honestly, don't tell me I'm the only parent to ever have forgotten two nights in a row?).
Anyway, I am crap at the whole tooth fairy thing. I have at least another 20 or so teeth before the twins wise up to the fact that it really is me.
Although in my experience this doesn't usually stop them from asking for the money for them.
How do you eventually get out of tooth fairy duties, I hear you ask?
Well, when the teen boy was about ten I found him stockpiling molars, apparently I owed him at least a tenner. "No belief, no money", I retorted.
The tooth fairy is such a stupid story. Which idiot decided that old teeth = money anyway? My bet is they probably weren't a parent.
While we were at the dentists the other week the teen girl had to have a tooth of her own removed. The dentist gave her the tooth in a tiny envelope with a picture of the tooth fairy on the front.
Looking at it, she exclaimed on the way out "that should get me at least a fiver, look at the size of it".
"In your dreams, kid", I said.
This tooth fairy needs a holiday.