When you’re a parent, the presence of baby teeth creates a unique scenario that non-parents might find unsettling. If you stumbled upon a collection of tiny teeth in a home without children, your first thought might lean toward something sinister, rather than the whimsical Tooth Fairy magic.
While tidying up recently, I discovered baby teeth scattered throughout my home—like I was an unwitting assistant to a horror film character. Molars, tiny incisors, and a few canines were tucked away in the junk drawer, hidden on the top shelf of my bathroom cabinet alongside floss and makeup, and even nestled in a quirky votive holder in the kitchen. It was a treasure trove of toothy relics!
Being the Tooth Fairy was such a delightful experience when I first started. I remember sneaking into my eldest child’s room, carefully lifting his sleeping head to place a note on beautiful parchment, sparkles, and a crisp dollar bill beneath his pillow. I enjoyed those magical moments with my first child, Noah, and even with a few of the teeth lost by my second, Lily.
However, by the time my youngest, Ethan, started losing teeth, it was a different story. He would simply hand me his fallen tooth, and I would rummage through my purse for whatever I could find—once, he even received a coupon for a local sandwich shop. But as they grow older, my heart aches over lost innocence, forgotten passwords, and missing remote controls. More importantly, I find myself pondering the fate of those baby teeth. Should I toss them in the trash? Bury them in the backyard? From my binge-watching of true crime shows, I know teeth are not biodegradable. I can only imagine the FBI showing up at my child’s doorstep years later, having unearthed their teeth from some landfill.
Sure, I could get creative and craft a whimsical display or a picture frame, but that might raise a few eyebrows, and honestly, I don’t even own a glue gun. So I ponder: WWMSFD? (What Would My Sane Friends Do?) The answer is clear—they’d toss the teeth without a second thought. But for me, it’s not that simple. Perhaps it’s my sentimental nature or the influence of my family’s tendency to hold on to everything.
For now, I’ve gathered the teeth into a small bag and placed them in a dresser drawer, alongside my collection of dusty, vintage lingerie—an odd but fitting resting place. I hope I’m not alone in this quirky sentimentality. If anyone else has kept their children’s baby teeth, please don’t tell me a horror story about umbilical cord stumps!
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In summary, the question of what to do with baby teeth may seem trivial, but it opens the door to deeper reflections on parenting and the bittersweet nature of growing up.