National Tooth Fairy Day might not be the most opportune time, but I’d like to lodge an ageism complaint.
Certainly everyone glorifies their favorite “tooth collector,” a good fairy popularized by her teeth-for-cash trade. In some cultures, glamorized with glitter, celebrated for stealth, this tooth taker is something of an icon.
Understandably, the 12-and-under set curries favor with their cuteness factor and gap-toothed smiles. Their heartwarming letters are met with crisp dollar bills tucked in adorable DIY tooth fairy pillows.
Does that mean the fairweather fairy should show blatant disregard of her followers, age 40-plus, whose eroding enamel and broken teeth lead to broken spirits, due to her lack of love and attention. Isn’t the tooth-loss prospect just as frightening for this demographic, perhaps more so? After all, instead of a mouthful of free permanent teeth on the horizon, crowns and implants wait in the wings.
Case in point: Friday evening, this Molar Muse met with an unwelcome mid-meal crunch. (Before you ask, no candy apple or popcorn culprit on my menu, just six seemingly harmless broiled shrimp.)
A moment (more like 30) of panic, ended with a late night voice message left at the dentist’s office. Ten hours later, my call was met with care and concern, though not by a winged wonder. Instead, a kind-hearted practitioner took pity on his longtime patient with a personal phone call and an early-Saturday time slot in an already packed schedule.
While the rest of the world labors over crayon-sketched Tooth Fairy creations, I’ll be penning a personal thank-you note to a true hero, Paul Capparell, DDS.
Would I turn away a late-arriving quarter under my pillow? Of course not. Who doesn’t deserve a second chance. I’m not counting on it, especially after decrying discrimination. Then again, no one likes negative publicity, especially the Tooth Fairy.
I’ll keep you posted.