81. Tooth Fairy Inflation


Michelle and Anna-rose lived next door to each other in a relatively exclusive suburb on the fashionable side of the town’s river. They both had seven-year-old daughters. Michelle’s daughter was Poppy, and Anna-rose’s was Melodic-Purity.

Anna-rose was to attend her lawyer husband’s Christmas function, so Michelle was asked to look after Melodic-Purity for the night.

“And she has a wobbly baby tooth,” said Anna-rose. “So here’s five dollars for the Tooth Fairy if it falls out.”

“Five dollars!” exclaimed Michelle. “Poppy gets a dollar per tooth!”

“A dollar! How stingy is that? We always give five dollars per tooth these days. And the two top front teeth are ten dollars each.”

“Ten dollars!” choked Michelle. “You give ten dollars per front tooth? Poppy gets a dollar for whatever tooth. When I was a kid I got a dime.”

“No wonder my husband says Poppy’s deprived,” snorted Anna-rose. “At least we can afford it, with my husband being a lawyer. Of course, what’s Nigel? A bank-teller is it?”

“You know he’s an accountant,” muttered Michelle.

“Whatever. He’s a disappointment either way. Just make sure that Melodic-Purity gets her five dollars from the Tooth Fairy, and don’t go skimping because you’re a miser with Poppy.”

“You can shove the Tooth Fairy down your oesophagus as far as I’m concerned,” retorted Michelle. “If Melodic-Purity comes near my place just once, I’ll tell her the truth about Tooth Fairies, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and how babies are made. You can find someone else to teach her how to grow up like a spoiled brat.”

Michelle stormed out. It was no fun living next door to her mother.

Please feel free to spout, tout, flout, sprout, pout, or simply say something sensible

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