When Vicky was a little girl,
A tooth (the front top right)
Started getting wobbly:
Was loose, instead of tight.
She jiggled it, she wiggled it,
She waggled it about,
Then she ate a jelly teddy,
And it finally came out.
Whenever Vicky smiled now,
Her mouth looked strangely gappy,
But she didn't mind one tiny bit -
In fact, was very happy.
For she knew that, when she went to sleep,
The tooth fairy would come,
And exchange the tooth for money -
That's according to her Mum.
Next morning, such excitement...
Quickly followed by despair:
She found no shiny twenty pence.
Her tooth - it was still there!
Mummy, too, was horrified
And thinking only this:
How could a magic creature
Be so dreadfully remiss?
She sought some explanation,
Could only think - well what?
That the tooth fairy was busy?
That the tooth fairy forgot?
Or was poorly? Had to stay at home
With spots? A cold? A cough?
Or, in common with all workers,
Had a well-earned evening off?
It really was a mystery
That had them both perplexed.
Mum said, "Why don't we try again,
And see what happens next?"
That night, the fairy visited,
Was busily employed.
V woke to find a golden coin:
The girl was overjoyed.
There was glitter 'neath her pillow
And a teeny stamp-sized note.
In tiny purple printing,
This is what the fairy wrote.
"It isn't every night I do
My very special round.
For children who are extra good,
The going rate's a pound!"
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