This was written by Tina Gower who is really me, but more sophisticated and writes science fiction and fantasy in her spare time.
The Tooth Fairy Wants to Hurt You
Good morning fellow aspiring mythical creature psychologists and blog followers.
In past installments of this column we’ve discussed the suicidal tendencies of Santa Claus, evidence of the Easter Bunny’s spiral into dementia, and Humpty Dumpty’s recovery from self-mutilating behaviors. In this week’s edition I’m going to profile one of our newest potential dangers in the magical realm: the Tooth Fairy.
The idea to dissect the personality of the Tooth Fairy came to me while describing her to my nephew. He had a toothache and wanted to know what would happen if it fell out. When I described the strange fantastical creature sneaking into his room to steal a body part in exchange for money, his eyes grew to the size of the promised quarters that fairy would leave him, and the corners of his lips quivered. I too became concerned, realizing what trickery had been pulled on the unsuspecting public. In an attempt to calm him, I backpedaled a bit and really played up the money part. As he calculated the potential secret bank in his mouth, I began assembling a worrisome profile.
Left only my knowledge of the severely disturbed I’d gained while watching Snapped, a cable T.V. true crime show, I conducted some Internet research. I concluded we all have a propensity towards some mental weakness that usually presents itself in stressful times. We don’t all need to be diagnosed and medicated; it’s just useful to identify what proclivities we fall back on in a vulnerable state.
Children and parents capitalize on these neuroses. They receive toys due to St. Nicholas’ difficulty controlling his manic impulses, and delight in the forgetfulness of the Easter Bunny taking items and leaving them in odd places around the yard. The abuse of the fragile mental state of the Tooth Fairy is no different.
The Tooth Fairy is an obsessive-compulsive personality. The disorder is anxiety based, so she’s surely developed spasms or a twitch. She undoubtedly has a tooth ring in her nose, because what self-respecting bone collector wouldn’t put an example of her finest compendium on her face somewhere. She leaves money in the place of a coveted trophy, which means she feels compelled to keep things equal and fair. This is the most interesting aspect of her personality. If she feels things are imbalanced in some way, there is a chance that her obsession could lead to depression or fits of anger. Due to the evidence of her cheerful productivity worldwide I’m afraid it’s the latter.
Then there’s the problem of what she might be doing with all these teeth. Adding all the children in the world for generations means there is either an unnoticed mountain sized pile of baby teeth or she assimilates her collection in some other craft project. In past conversations with my colleagues, we believed she made them into necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and other fine jewelry, but I never truly divulged what I feared most. Since I don’t see many women proudly wearing baby teeth necklaces and matching earrings, she’s more likely grinding the bones and sculpting them into tea sets.
She’s possibly drawn to extracurricular activities that feed into her rage, while also fostering her love for children. So, she regularly attends little league games and ballet dance recitals.
Now that we have a clear profile of our subject, and where we might instruct the local law enforcement to capture her, we need to address the level of risk.
I suspect she’s armed, probably with a dental tool of some type, like the small hook scrapper the hygienist uses to remove plaque. The fairy also may create a weapon with the battery-operated drill she uses for grinding her collections into dust for her fine china. And I don’t think I need to stress that deep down the Tooth Fairy wants to hurt you. Each time she enters a home, the one thing that keeps her from killing us all in our sleep is the reciprocity she feels when we leave her our children’s teeth.
This does not mean that she cannot be rehabilitated. We have the ability in applied behavioral and cognitive therapies to channel her urges and deliver her back to society as a loving and cherished member of our mythical creature community. Once restrained and approached, I think she’d welcome the help if she knew it was available to her. We’d need to assure her that she is still adored and we would keep her recovery confidential, closing her records from public knowledge. I’d only refer to her by the initials T.F. in blog posts updating the treatment of her psychosis.
There are, of course, medications available for her particular disorder, but as my regular blog followers know, I don’t actually have a degree in psychology. Although, I do read the occasional self-help book, I’ve gathered the majority of my wisdom from CSI and crime novels. Until the American Psychological Association recognizes our profession, we will be limited in available treatments. And psychologists don’t usually prescribe medication; psychiatrists do, as one helpful commenter pointed out last month. I’m quite pleased that WiFi is now available under bridges, so trolls can join our discussions.
Thank you for reading the blog! If you leave a comment today we are giving away free mouthwash in a pepper spray can and floss, both items that will come in handy to capture our latest wanted creature. Looking forward to our next post where I’ve prepared a list of popular cartoon characters for members to match to their respective diagnoses. Winner will receive a copy of my upcoming book: Why Grimm’s Fairy Tales had it Right – A Haunting Look into the Troubled Minds of our Most Beloved Fairy Tales.
And as always, remember the three M’s: Mythical, Magical, or Maniacal?
Dr.* Phil Jones
Amateur Mythical Psychologist
Google University Graduate
27 Mythical Minds Saved (and counting!)
* – Honorary Doctorate bestowed by Jim Dyson from Jim’s Big Blog of Layman’s Psychology, January 2012.
I love comments! Every comment gets us one step closer to catching that dangerous creature.
I now see beloved fairy tale creatures in a new light. I’m not sure I should thank you for this. I will, however, sleep with the light on the next time one of my kids loses a tooth.