More teeth

This is what I have to say to Shark today. Stop going on about how the tooth fairy is rubbish.

Remember that the tooth fairy forgets what she is doing sometimes and in these troubled times needs to sit down and have a cup of tea. Remember that there is a new au pair in the house who needs feeding, an exploding Tiger, a daddy Dig who has appeared in the middle of bathtime from the middle of Germany, and a mummy Grit who has her head buried in a book about Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C, all of which she hopes will help in handling an exploding Tiger at any time of the day or night.

Please also remember that in this household teeth are falling out left, right, and centre just now, and there is a limit to how many pound coins a tooth fairy can keep in her purse when she has to keep popping down the Co-op to buy extra bread because Elizabeth Hurley is turning into a bit of a gannet and has already chomped her way through two loaves and a bucket of fruit this morning.

Given these constraints Shark, I think the tooth rate at one pound per tooth was set a little too high. The tooth fairy may shortly be putting in a proclamation to go out across the land that because Sharks grow lots of teeth and have them fall out all the time, the rate has gone down to one penny a tooth.

But first please help me to conduct a forensic search of the back garden in the area where Tiger says she last remembers wobbling her wobbly tooth. Either that, or check the toilet, because Tiger says she might have swallowed it.