Un-fairy falsehoods: Tooth Fairy tales

There’s a slanderous falsehood going around and as a defender of truth, it’s high time this periodical corrected the grievous error.

Tomorrow is sometimes considered a day of observance for the Tooth Fairy, although February 28 also bears the name. (It has been pointed out that the two observances are a near perfect six months apart, satisfying dentists’ recommendations for twice annual checkups. Coincidence? This news rag thinks not. Investigation forthcoming.)

Holiday or not, there’s a vicious rumor going around about the Tooth Fairy’s origins. Kids, avert your eyes. You’ll know it’s a lie, but it will still be tough to read.

The tale, almost certainly spawned by embittered non-believers whose bicuspids were once missed by the overworked fairy, goes like this:

A 1908 Chicago Tribune article by Lillian Brown had a piece of advice for parents dealing with their child’s loose baby teeth. You could persuade apprehensive youngsters to have those precariously dangling canines — you know, the kind that’s hanging on by a thread which every child adores to set spinning, to parents’ chagrin — pulled without the tears and fears, said Brown. Simply inform them of the kindly tooth fairy who will gift five cents (yes, a whole nickel in those times!) for every incisor.

It’s good advice. Kids outgrow them and the tooth fairy gets valuable material at a bargain. Presumably she whittles them into durable items and décor and sells them to other fairies.

The only problem, of course, is the implication that Brown either made up the fairy, or more likely drew upon existing legends. Imagine, reading multiple legends of a goodly tooth-loving sprite over the centuries and having the gall to call her a myth!

Other sources — fake news, surely! — credit Esther Watkins Arnold in place of Brown for her brief 1927 play, “The Tooth Fairy.” The Smithsonian Magazine once suggested her toothy goodness is largely a recent phenomenon and attributes the growing practice of participating in the tooth fairy’s monetary-dental exchange over the 20th century to Disney’s benevolent fae portrayals.

In fact there’s a whole host of explanations for the Tooth Fairy by the scourge of nonbelievers who fail to accept her obvious existence (fools and fraudsters!).

Older stories, legends, and practices of Europe appear to include coins left for children. The old Norse tradition tand-fe, or “tooth fee”, dating at least as far back as the 10th century told of parents paying their children for their first lost tooth, which may have been considered lucky. Young British maids were left with “fairy coins” for some time. And a late 19th century French tradition had the Virgin Mary herself swapping teeth for coins!

One less credible source even claimed a role by early 20th century healthcare for associating fairies with baths, clean teeth, and other hygienic matters. Perhaps someone simply has it out for Big Dental and Big Bathing?

The true story is harder to tease out, as the Tooth Fairy herself appears to operate in the shadows — or at least, Dora-shaped nightlights. We can guess at a relatively young age for the magical being, since night-time tooth swapping stories date to this fairy virgin’s supposed escapades in the late 1800s. She may be much younger and native to this continent. Business slowly picked up over the last century or so, especially after World War II, and remains a primarily American trade.

Sorry folks, the jury is still out on the Fairy’s true history, but now you can guard yourselves — and your loved ones — from the malicious mendacity.

And to Ms. Fairy, if you’re reading this, thanks for all the contributions to our piggy banks.