Looking back, I probably should have offered to hold it for her while she played. I know from experience with my own children how flimsy those plastic containers can be. The little clasps on the lids hardly ever stay closed.
It was my day to help supervise recess at our elementary school. As soon as the first group of kids came out to the playground, a small kindergarten girl with short dark hair and even darker eyes skipped over to me, proudly displaying a gap in her exaggerated smile. She was wearing a necklace containing a large white plastic tooth-shaped holder. I knew that the school nurse gave this type of necklace to children who’d lost a tooth during school. The tooth holder was supposed to keep the tooth from getting lost while the child was at school and keep it safe until they arrived home at the end of the day.
One of the girl’s friends spoke for her so that she would be free to continue showing off the area where her tooth used to be. “Audrey had to have a tooth pulled today,” said the friend.
“You did?” I said to Audrey, who was now pointing to the gap with added effort so that I was sure to not miss it. “Is this the first tooth you’ve lost?”
The friend answered for her, “Yes. Audrey had a loose tooth and her mom took her to the dentist to have it pulled out.”
“Wow,” I said. “Are you going to put it under your pillow?” Audrey nodded, smiling. She was clearly very pleased that I managed to catch the significance of this kindergarten milestone. Satisfied, she and her friend ran off to play.
A few minutes later, a sad Audrey was back, this time telling me that she’d lost her tooth; the same tooth the dentist pulled out earlier. Apparently she was running and her necklace came untied and now the tooth was gone. She showed me the open, empty tooth holder as if by doing so I could somehow put it back.
As a mom, I knew the importance of a first lost tooth to a child in kindergarten. I also knew how painful it could be if that lost tooth were to become lost.
The year before, my son Evan was in kindergarten and had lost his first tooth while at school. He’d been wiggling it during story time and when it finally released its hold on his six-year-old gums, it was covered in blood. With his teacher’s permission, Evan went to the restroom to clean the blood off his tooth. He wanted it to be shiny and clean for the Tooth Fairy.
No one warned him that a tooth can be a slippery thing which can fall into sink drains while you’re oh-so-carefully cleaning it. No one warned his teachers how much a child can cry and carry on when this happens.
In a great collective effort, Evan’s teachers and the office staff resolved to help him recover from the loss of his tooth. A plan was hatched, one that involved detailed maps and printed instructions designed to direct the Tooth Fairy to Evan’s lost tooth in the sink drain.
The plan worked. Evan stopped crying and was able to finish out the rest of the school day without incident.
He woke up the next day to find that the Tooth Fairy had indeed visited him. Not only did he discover a crisp dollar bill under his pillow but also a note:
“Dear Evan,
I’m so sorry that you lost your tooth down the drain. Because of the maps and really good directions, I was able to find it. Keep brushing and flossing.
Love,
Your Friend The Tooth Fairy”
Because of my son’s anguish at losing his tooth, I was even more determined to help Audrey. I would be the one to find the tooth, to restore her smile, to be her hero.
I tried getting Audrey to narrow down the places on the playground where she’d been playing, but she could only tell me where she was when she discovered the tooth was missing: the area right below the office window of the school, not far from where we were standing. I searched the area thoroughly but there was no tooth.
Several children and I spent the rest of recess looking for her tooth. Evan was out at recess at the same time, so I enlisted his help, figuring he would have extra compassion for another child who’d lost a tooth at school. In spite of all our efforts, recess ended and Audrey had to return to her classroom without her tooth.
After the kids went inside the school, I stayed behind so that I could continue looking for the tooth. I decided to walk a grid over the whole playground, one narrow path at a time. I started at the far end of the playground and walked up and down, up and down, picking up every tooth-shaped, tooth-colored object along the way. As I walked, people would come out and ask what I was looking for, or if they knew the story, they’d ask if I was still looking for Audrey’s tooth.
I’d been looking for Audrey’s tooth for more than an hour. I walked one or two more passes on the playground then stopped to sit on some railroad ties near the door of the school to rest a minute. As I sat, I looked at the ground in front of the railroad ties. As soon as I did, my eyes were drawn to something. There it was, a tiny ivory baby tooth, sitting on top of some ground up leaves and gravel, so close to the entrance of the school. So close to where I was standing when Audrey first told me she’d lost her tooth. I don’t know how I’d missed it, but I’d found it now. I couldn’t wait to show Audrey.
I went inside the school to the kindergarten classroom. The children were all sitting on the floor as the school’s principal read to them. Audrey’s teacher was in the back of the room, so I motioned to her through the door that I’d found Audrey’s tooth. She came to the door, carefully stepping around children, and took the tooth from me. I caught Audrey’s glance and gave her the thumbs-up sign so she’d know I found her tooth.
As I was leaving the school, I saw the principal leading Audrey toward me, telling her how much time I spent looking for her tooth, and wasn’t that a nice thing to do, and didn’t she have something to say to me. Audrey looked up at me without expression and obediently said, “Thank you, Miss Lisa.”
The principal, evidently expecting a bigger reaction from Audrey, suggested that she might want to give me a hug, too, since I worked so hard at finding her tooth. Audrey calmly hugged me. She wasn’t excited or full of emotion. It was as if the sadness from recess was all forgotten and no longer a concern. This wasn’t how I imagined she’d be and I was ashamed to admit that I was disappointed. So much for my hero moment.
Later that day, when my sons arrived home from school, I overheard Evan talking to his brother Matt. Evan told Matt all about how Audrey lost her tooth on the playground at recess, and how everyone tried to find it but couldn’t, and how Mom was the one who finally found it.
It might have been to a different child, but maybe I was a hero after all.
*photo of tooth holder from www.orientaltrading.com
Comments
In case you ever need to do this again - try looking with a flashlight. Even in daylight, the beam of the flashlight will hit the one thing with a different texture and help you see it.
I lost a tooth as a child. My mother said if I put a shiny nickel under my pillow, The tooth fairy would know what had happened and leave me a quarter. The ploy worked and I was none the wiser.
I hear now days that if you leave a nickel there will only be three cents left when you wake because of high surcharges attached to fairy fuel by Exxon Mobile. True story!
Remember how important those kinder teeth are, esp the first! My own kid never wanted it under her pillow though--was scared of someone, magical or not--money or not, coming into her room while she slept.
Great story!
Stephanie - Thank you! It's amazing how kids are impressed by the simplest acts of kindness. Even though Audrey was underwhelmed when she got her tooth back, she always gives me a big hug when she sees me at school. I guess in addition to being a hero, I made a friend, too.
Thank you for sharing
I was volunteering in my son's kindergarten class last year, when one of his classmates lost her first tooth, the first child in the class to do so. It fell out when she was eating a cupcake. She was absolutely distraught. She was crying so hard she couldn't breath, and tears were dripping off her cheeks. Finally, based on the few words she was able to gasp out between sobs, we realized that no one had ever explained to her about baby teeth vs adult teeth. So she thought she'd lost her tooth for good, and that she'd have a space in her mouth forever, and that maybe the others would start falling out too, so she would end up the only kid without any teeth. No wonder she was so upset!
It would be rather disconcerting to have a previously reliable body part just up and fall out one day. And, if that can happen, then what other body parts might follow suit? How about hair? Fingers? Eyes? Looked at that way, the trauma is rather understandable.
Anyway. Appreciated or not, you were a very nice mom to find her tooth.
Once again you warmed my heart! Thank you for the post. And thanks for using one of my favorite words, "wiggling". :)!
Marple - Aw, what a traumatic thing to imagine! Poor child. No wonder she was crying so hard. This just goes to show the further value of teachers and parent volunteers in a child's life. They help children through those moments of uncertainty beyond academics. P.S. Did I tell you how glad I am that you're back?
Julie - I wonder how many tears Tooth Fairy notes have helped prevent? Thank for stopping by.
Great story, pathos, disappointment, joy, love everyything a good mom should be.
Great post, doll.
Melissa - Wow! What a nice compliment! Is your daughter that same fine young lady who drew that beautiful inaugural picture of President Obama? She'll have lots of people looking out for her, I'll bet. Her sweetness shines through.
Professor - I'm sure finding a lost tooth isn't on the same level of greatness with those people but I appreciate hearing it just the same. :)
Hooray, my hero!!!
scared grandma - You're so kind! I'm glad you enjoyed my story. I appreciate your kind words.
aim - Thank you so much! You just made my day. :)
The next morning, the usual 50¢ was under my pillow and all was right with the world.
You done good, Lisa.
I lost my first tooth when I was four, at a wedding reception, while eating a ham salad sandwich I didn't want to eat but which my Dad made me. I didn't realize it had come out for a while, because I thought that the red stuff on my sandwich was ketchup, then I remembered that I didn't put ketchup on the sandwich. Had to dig the baby tooth out of the ham salad goop.
I still can't stand ham salad.
Good for you in finding Audrey's tooth for her.
Glad you were able to be a hero to your son. Those times are probably few and far between. I love your inner monologues.
Man, it’s one thing to read Dr. Seuss’ ‘The Tooth Book’ w/my pre-schoolers, but I guess I haven’t thought about what it’ll feel like to go through all those tiny milestones. I’ll have to find a way to have teachers as creative and kind as @your elementary school – and parents like you – around when we do. Extremely cute and endearing post, Lisa. (Honestly, I don’t know how you find the time).
Mari - So you've lost a tooth down the drain too? Evan would be happy to know that. He still talks about when he lost his tooth down the sink.
Leeandra - Ham salad is just nasty. Tooth or no tooth, best to avoid that stuff.
Mrs. Michaels - I figure Audrey will have enough people breaking her spirit, er, I mean, lecturing her on responsibility. :)
angrymom - We moms "get it," don't we? Thank you!
Jimmy - I agree. I gained much more from this experience than Audrey did. By far. Thank you.
Jess - I love the idea of a special box for the baby teeth! Don't worry about taking up stamp collecting. You'll just move on to their first dance invitation, first date, graduation, first job, first traffic ticket, etc. Sorry about that last one. I'm still upset about my son's speeding ticket. :(
fireeyes - :)
LandP - You're so sweet! Thanks for giving me permission to have some chocolate. Would you mind writing a permission slip for my diet plan?
Professor - I'll bet I could have found your rosary. I am great at finding things. I once found a contact lens (mine) that was lost in grass in our front yard. It took me three days, but I found it! Thanks again for your kind and supportive comments.
Pamela - Thank you! You're always such a joy to me.
I must tell you my nephew Ben misplaced his first lost tooth -- and called 9-1-1 to report it. HE will appreciate this story.
Audrey sounds like a lot of timid kids who hide what they really think. So I wish you could have been a fly on the wall at her house when she told her mom what you did. Might have been a whole different and confident little girl talking in the safety of her home to her mom.
And, boy, does Evan know how to charm his mom! He's a real keeper.
Monte
Monte - You're right. Children rarely react how you expect. Think of all of the times we think we're getting them the perfect birthday gift only to find them playing with the boxes and wrapping paper! It was my fault for setting my own expectations so high. I should know better, having three kids myself. You're also right about Evan. That boy can charm anyone!
Shiral - I guess if we're lucky, we can all be heroes or heroines at some point in our lives. I know that I got much more out of the experience than Audrey did.
Roy - Thank you so much!
Moana - I'm humbled. Thank you.
I am very impressed you know!
Beautifully written and a great pleasure to read; thank you for sharing yr story....
{rated!}
Nahatsu - Such nice comments - thank you so much!
Cindy - Shhh....don't tell, but the Tooth Fairy is flakey in our house, too. She had her act together with the first child, got progressively worse with child #2, and now with poor Evan, she forgets quite a bit. Usually I "double check" (after discreetly and quickly grabbing a dollar bill) to see if Evan might have overlooked the money. Then I tell him that she left it in a slightly different place. Parenting is dirty business.
Smiling at the image of you combing the playground (for more than an hour!) for a lost baby tooth...Might have been easier to offer a reward and put all the kids in the class on the case.