Please accept my sincere apologies for the fact that I did not collect your tooth and leave money last night. I can only imagine your heart-rending sobs this morning when you looked under you pillow and discovered that your tooth was still there. There’s so little in life you can really count on, and you’d think that getting money for teeth would be one of them, I know.
What can I say? I had every intention of making my usual rounds last night. I had my wings polished and my fairy dust replenished in the morning, same as usual. I was ready to go. But then the Easter Bunny and I got into this really long conversation about whether Obama should have won the Nobel Peace Prize, and that segued into the state of higher education in America, and the next thing you know, it was 3:00 in the morning, and I had totally missed my flying window.
I realize that my only job in life is delivering money to the children who have lost teeth. I mean, how hard is it to do one thing well, right? And I assure you that this has never happened before and will never happen again. I will write notes to remind myself to stay away from the Easter Bunny an hour before flying time, so I don’t get sucked into conversations and get distracted. (Santa Claus too.)
I’ll make it up to you, David. I’ll bring you a little extra tonight for “interest.” (As I will have to for all the other children of the world. Man, do the math…can you say “cost over-runs?” Maybe I can get a small budget transfer from Santa. Or the Easter Bunny, but he’s so worried about the rising cost of chocolate that it’s unlikely.)
I look forward to inspecting that tooth. I’m sure it’s a fine specimen that will bring me a lot of money on the open market.
Gotta run. Can you imagine how many of these notes I have to write? Luckily, it’s a lot of cut and paste.
Again, please accept my apology and my assurance that this will never happen again, to you or any other child.
The Tooth Fairy
P.S. Whatever you do, do not blame this in any way on your mother. She has a lot on her plate.