Dear Fairies…

I’ll be spending a chunk of this afternoon at the dentist’s, so today seemed as good a time as any to show you this letter, which my mum came across earlier this week, along with some other missives written by my younger self. I’ve no idea what age I was when I wrote this, but I’m guessing, oooh, 17? 18? 25? Who knows…

As you can see, my writing was a lot less… rambly… when I was younger. Straight to the point, that was me. Also, I had a LOT of teeth, apparently. (Note the handy diagram I’ve provided to show the fairies exactly where the missing tooth came from. They might have needed that information, you see.)

I also like the way I obviously initially ended the letter right after “when I was easting an apple”, but must have worried that the fairies would just have read that and been all, “SO? Why are you telling us?”, so I went back and added the “you can hav it.” You know, just in case. It’s good to be clear about these things.

(TERRY: What are those three long things dangling from your head?

ME: Umm, I’m guessing maybe my body and my two gigantic arms? Although one of them DOES look more like a cigarette, now I come to look at it…)

I really hope the fairies didn’t get too excited about all of this, though, because even although I’ve written the words “you can hav it”, I didn’t actually mean it. No, while most children I knew worked on a “tooth for money” basis, I liked to attach sentimental value to absolutely EVERYTHING as a child, so all fairies visiting MY house were under strict instructions to leave the money, by all means, but to ALSO LEAVE THE TOOTH, which I then added to the small but gruesome collection of old teeth which I kept inside a yellow plastic Kinder egg. (Not much in that transaction for the fairies, was there? Nice work, younger self!) My dad says he can remember that little egg still being in their house as recently as a few years ago. I would imagine it’s still there somewhere, so any visiting children could be in for one helluva nasty surprise…

19 Comments

  • RT @foreveramber: New Post: Dear Fairies… – http://www.foreveramber.co.uk/2011/03/de…

  • RT @foreveramber: New Post: Dear Fairies… – http://www.foreveramber.co.uk/2011/03/de…

  • Tali says:

    I should stop reading your blog at the office)) It’s really difficult to kill a giggle)))
    So you were a little businesswoman! Give the money AND the tooth! well done))

  • fetishistsnotes says:

    @foreveramber priceless note)))))

  • Siel says:

    Haha! I also still have that kinder egg, filled with teeth :)

  • Beth says:

    It’s not a cigarette, that’s your hand holding out the tooth for the fairies isn’t it?

    To be fair, there’s nothing wrong with being clear in your communication. That way the fairies know the drill and you’re eliminating this awkwardness:

    Fairies: “Hi Amber, we’ve come for your tooth..”
    You: “What do you mean?”
    Fairies: “You sent us a letter telling us you’d lost your tooth.”
    You: “Erm. Yeah. I was just, kinda, telling you. Y’know. Keeping you in the loop.”
    Fairies: “So.. we can’t have it then?”
    You: “No.”
    [uncomfortable silence]
    Fairies: “So, we should… Yeah, we should go.”
    Amber: “Yes. You should.”
    [Fairies Exit]

    …because fairy awkwardness sucks.

    Bx

    • Amber says:

      It’s true, fairy awkwardness is the worst kind there is! I’m actually now wondering if I added the “you can hav it” bit at the suggestion of my parents or something. I just can’t imagine myself volunatarily suggesting the fairies could take my TEETH. Damn fairies!

  • Elisa says:

    I DID THE SAME THING! Or, actually, when my first tooth falled off I was rreaal excited about giving it to the Tooth Fairy. In the morning I started crying when it had gone. Cutest child ever…

    I love love love love that letter. My favourite part is the hand handing the…thing to the fairies.

    • Amber says:

      I know, it’s kinda weird that I felt I actually had to depict that for them – as if the fairies STILL wouldn’t understand what I was talking about unless I illustrated it for them!

  • Stacey says:

    I always had to keep my baby teeth too! I got money and kept the tooth in a little clear jewelry box that my mom had. When I ran out of baby teeth my mom kept the box (my poor mom!). I never thought about it until about 2 weeks ago my mom and I were going through some old boxes and there were my nasty baby teeth. It looks like something out of a horror movie, where the killer keeps reminders of his victims.

    For some reason my mom wants to keep them, says it reminds her of when I was little and how cute I was. I think it’s gross and want them thrown out. I just know they’re going to be dragged out someday to show to a new boyfriend.

    • Amber says:

      Haha, I remember coming across mine a few years back, and yeah, they were pretty gross! I’ve no idea what happened to them after that, but I’m sure they’ll turn up sooner or later and put me off my lunch :)

  • Jaynie says:

    It does *kind of* look like the “you can hav it” was an afterthought, lol. I kept my teeth for a few days because I thought they looked kinda cool, but then I surrendered them to the tooth fairy (never thought of demanding the money just for a look at the tooth!). I did, however, used to write very long quizzes for said fairies to complete, with questions about what they used the teeth for and where they lived, etc. My poor mother.

  • Haha! You are tearing me up! Great picture. Oh by the way… I kept my teeth too as a child. I even was sad for years because I lost a strange looking one before I could show it to my parents. It went out while I was at school and I guess I just dropped it somewhere. Sadness ^^

    Relatable Style

  • Drea says:

    I’m glad I’m not the only one who did this. Although mine arn’t in a specail box, they are just scattered around my house, a nice little stuprise for someone to find.

  • Julia M says:

    Yeah right, I bet it was only last week you wrote it…
    This is almost as good as the letter I wrote to the tooth fairy when I was 6…3 pages long, with a detailed diagram of how they could get into my house if my dad had locked the doors and windows and a drawing of a new uniform I had designed for them. I bet my parents had a right laugh over that one…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>