“I lost another tooth!” my 8-year-old daughter shrieked as she ran towards me with the little bloody specimen. I pretended not to gag (I survived as a pre-med student for two semesters before dropping out, following a gruesome dissection lab involving a nasty rat). We carefully placed the tooth in a miniature plastic chest under her pillow.
“Try to fall asleep early tonight,” I whispered in her ear as I hugged her. “I hear the tooth fairy is very busy these days.”
We walked back into the kitchen and my daughter asked whether the tooth fairy visited me in Israel when I was growing up. I told her the truth. “We didn’t have a tooth fairy in Israel back then. But I’ve heard that now she is able to make it over the ocean and visit kids there, too.”