YOU know how it is, dear reader. You get nominated as tooth fairy. You accept with as much grace as you can muster. You slowly collect your costume: orange slippers (at the request of one of your fairy-ees); one sparkly green and one fancy blue dress (you let the loser-of-the-tooth decide which one you are going to wear when you come over for a sleepover); a wand (gift from a niece who feels that you CANNOT be a proper fairy without a wand); and a light-up tiara (from a roommate who is certain that you have better use for it than she does).
At said sleepover, you exchange gold (= sacajawea dollars) for teeth beneath the pillow of an only nominally asleep child (I decided shortly after starting this job that letting them be awake but making them pretend to be asleep is the most fun, and if you aren't in Tooth Fairying for the fun, I can tell you the teeth just don't-- ahem-- cut it, as far as pay is concerned).
Then, you move away, so that these sorts of sleepovers are no longer possible, but you do what you can: you encourage the neeflings to mail the teeth to you, promising that you will get you them dollars when you can. But here's the problem: I am a forgetful woman, and teeth are not exactly flat-- they are not easy to file or, in short, to keep track of. I found one just the other day that Papa had brought back from his last trip to Utah, and I realized how badly I am falling behind in my duties. I'm really not sure how many dollars I owe to whom; also, I'm not completely sure which of the teeth in my possession have already been paid for
But I came up with a solution: Tooth Receipts. Mailed as postcards.
I mailed the first one today. It made me pretty darn happy.