Tooth fairy came

Try to take a photo of a tiny thing held by an excited child!

This week Number One Son has again passed one threshold. No, it was not the trip to the Scouts shop to buy the Beavers sweater (obligatory), but his first milk tooth became loose and dropped of by the end of the week. The trip to the Scouts shop was not to forget, since in a hurry, I just switched the Navigator on. I had a hazy idea that the shop was somewhere between Scudamore Road and Hinckley Road, but I did not know which road to take. The Navigator wanted me to take M1, no matter where I was. It turned out I had been about two junctions away before losing my confidence on the ring road...

The traditions passed my little people at school are strong. We had never talked about Tooth fairy at home, but as soon as the tooth became wobbly, Number One Son started to talk about the coin he will get. He may not remember what else happens in school afterwards, but moneywise, he is on the money.

I hate wobbly teeth. I did as a child, and I am not much help in discussing the matter. Luckily, the tooth dropped off over a painful breakfast. Nothing could be eaten before. In the evening I left the practical execution of the Toothfairiness to Archaeologist Husband who seemed to take the rains. I had thought that a pound was the standard, but he had other thoughts.

His coin of choice was 50 pence. This turned out to be an enlightened choice. Number One Son has not really paid attention to the nominal values of the coins before, but now there is at least one coin the shape of which is chiselled to his mind. he now promptly recognises his favourite coin he got from the Tooth fairy. He would have wanted to take the tiny tooth to the school to show His Teacher, but we did not want that. He would have only lost it. Now it became hard currency. If only there was this fairy...