The last time my daughter lost a tooth, the Tooth Fairy failed to visit not one, not two, but three nights in a row. My husband and I both felt terrible every morning when she awoke to disappointment.  But apparently not terrible enough because we kept forgetting about it by bedtime.

We are 8 teeth into this Tooth Fairy gig and I can honestly say it is one of my least favorite parts of parenting. Who came up with this idea anyway? A creature who sneaks into your room while you’re asleep, steals your tooth and leaves you spare change? Sounds like a crime scene to me.

I have yet to play the Tooth Fairy without breaking a sweat. Between my creaky floors, light-sleeping kids and heavy mouth breathing, the odds are not in my favor. And let me tell you – there’s nothing like that Oh Shit moment when your kid rolls over, opens her eyes and looks you dead in the face when you are midway through the Fairy deed with one hand stuck under the pillow. Honestly. I don’t need that kind of adrenaline rush at 11:00pm.

Not to mention the whole tooth disposal part of it. Are we just supposed to throw them in the garbage? Save them forever? Bury them in the yard? Are they compostable?? I have tossed some, but I also have a few teeth tucked in my underwear drawer, which is just plain creepy. Somehow none of the options feel quite right to me.

I thought maybe I was the only parent who struggled with this issue, but then a friend told me that he and his wife threw their kids’ teeth out the window. Granted they lived in Manhattan at the time, but still. Clearly none of us know what the hell we are supposed to do with these old dirty teeth if parents are hurling them out their window at innocent pedestrians below.

In this day and age, someone should at least start a tooth recycling program. Surely there is a way to melt the enamel and use it to make cars. Or football helmets. You KNOW there is a football team somewhere in Texas that would pay serious cash to have helmets made of teeth.

Until then I’ll just keep doing my best and try not to get caught. It seems like some parents are cut out for the Tooth Fairy task, and then there are the rest of us. Fumbling, forgetful, and stealing money from our child’s piggy bank to put under the pillow because we never carry cash anymore. It’s one disaster after another.

Fortunately this Fairy only has 32 more visits to manage before retirement. But who’s counting.

I forgot my hands.