Mount Pleasant Magazine July/August 2017

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smiling faces
the community. I didn’t think I was asking for trouble, so
I signed up. And, for a while, it wasn’t any trouble at all.
Parents were communicating according to the rules, the
Head Fairy was getting his teeth and kids were smiling
their gappy grins. Then a few new families moved into
the area and decided they didn’t want to play by the rules.
That’s when the job started to, shall we say, bite back.
Typically, losing baby teeth is an exciting time both
for parents and children. Moms and dads are eager to
meet the Tooth Fairy as soon as their kids start dropping
teeth. Whenever I see a “Sold” sign on a front lawn and a
minivan in the driveway, I start making phone calls and
introducing myself. However, one day I noticed more and
more of my calls were ending up in voice mails instead
of chats with excited parents. I figured that perhaps my
intuition was off, but, upon closer inspection, most of
these neighborhoods had young kids in the front yard –
prime tooth losing age. I kept trying to call these homes,
but I never got any answers. This was acceptable when it
was one home or two every few weeks, but when half of
every other street wasn’t doing business, I knew my higher-
ups would soon start making a fuss.
So I decided to search for answers. I Googled the
address for one of the newer homes that had given me
the silent treatment and planned my investigation. In the
middle of the night, I fluttered from my leafy bungalow
in the Old Village, past Coleman and Shem Creek and
into a quiet backyard. An open window on the second
floor caught my eye, and I rushed through. Inside were
four kids; a quick survey of their snoring mouths revealed
a few gaps in each set. Shortly after, I heard voices from
downstairs. I crept down the hall and peeked past a corner
in the stairwell. What I saw astounded me. A whole cabal
of parents sitting around a dining room table, with a
gigantic pile of baby teeth between them!
“Well ...” started one clearly apprehensive father. “This
all sounds fine and dandy, but what about overhead?”
A burly man in his 30s chuckled, “As long as that
Head Fairy minds his own beeswax, we can split the profit
between ourselves. We’ve been working this business for
nearly a year now, and it sure beats my wife having to sell
Pampered Chef.”
It only took me a few seconds to realize what was
happening. These moms and dads were cutting out the
fairies entirely and selling the teeth for themselves! I flew
out of there as soon as I could, not knowing what they
would do if they caught me.
But I have to admit, I was hooked after that. I wanted
to see who all was involved in this scheme – just how many
families from the Mount Pleasant community were breaking
the rules. So I started going back to that first house when I
really shouldn’t have. Not only was I jeopardizing my own
safety, I was skirting my responsibilities. I could have been
making calls and meeting new families – instead, I was
eavesdropping. That’s the thing about business. You gotta
pound the pavement for yourself, not worry about what
everyone else is doing.
Soon enough, my higher-ups realized I wasn’t producing
as many teeth as they saw fit for Mount Pleasant.
“You’ve only got five molars for this whole month?”
the Head Fairy bellowed at me over his cup of fermented
dandelion wine. “Seriously, what is going on? There’s way
too many master-planned communities in Mount Pleasant
that are teeming with kids under 12 for this to be the case.”
He took a long sip of wine. His eyes were already
bloodshot.
“As long as that Head Fairy minds
his own beeswax, we can split the
profit between ourselves.”