Parents have a lot of responsibility – the safety of their children, preparing nutritious meals and making sure the Tooth Fairy shows up and pays up.

With three boys, we had our fair share of Tooth Fairy duties. I was on the ball with the oldest son. I couldn’t wait for him to go to sleep so I could slip a dollar underneath his pillow and quietly and gently take his little tooth.

I was the first one up because I couldn’t wait to see his face coming into the kitchen with the money the Tooth Fairy had left him.

With the second child, I was still diligent – making sure I snuck upstairs after he’d gone to sleep, sidestepping his clothes and empty cereal bowls, and then sliding the money quietly underneath his pillow.

I wasn’t quite as on the ball with the third child – if he wanted to wear his water boots to the grocery store, so be it.

If he wanted a hot dog for breakfast, at least he was eating something. I let my guard down, and that included Tooth Fairy duties.

The first time I earned a D-minus in Tooth Fairy apprenticeship was when he lost his third or fourth tooth.

I had good intentions of putting money under his pillow, but I fell asleep before he did. The next morning, I heard my son upstairs yelling about not finding any money under his pillow and I panicked.

I grabbed the two dollar bills off the counter – where I’d put them so I wouldn’t forget – and ran up the stairs.

He was on his hands and knees on the floor, looking for the money.

“Did you check underneath your pillow?” I asked?

He assured me he had. With the money hidden in my hand, I reached underneath his pillow, pulled out the cash and held it up.

“Hey, you must’ve missed something,” I said.

He yelped for joy and thanked me.

I felt like a heel.

Did this Tooth Fairy apprentice vow she’d never disappoint her child again?

Yes.

Did she forget the next time?

Of course.

A few weeks later, I remember waking up to the sounds of my youngest stomping around in his room yelling “where’s the money?”

My stomach flipped over, and I knew I’d forgotten again.

Thinking fast, I grabbed a five-dollar bill out of my wallet. This was twice the going rate because I figured I had a guilt fee to pay. I held the money out as I walked into his room.

“Hey, look what I found in the hall,” I said.

He was standing on his bed –the sheets and bedspread on the floor – and I could see he was close to tears.

“The Tooth Fairy must’ve dropped this on her way to your room last night,” I said as I gave him the money.

The look of relief on his face was immediate, and I felt awful.

The Tooth Fairy’s apprentice remembered every single time after that, and the youngest kid got a huge raise each and every time. Guilt will do that to an apprentice.

This past weekend, our grandchildren spent the night, the first time in months.

While we were eating dinner, our 7-year-old grandson held out a small tooth in his hand and said it had been loose. He hoped the Tooth Fairy could find him at our house, and we reassured him she could.

The apprentice was being offered redemption, and this time, she’d better get it right.

Not trusting myself to get upstairs before he woke up – James is always the first one up – I called all of the grandkids into the kitchen for a snack. While they were enjoying their ice cream, I snuck upstairs and put the money underneath James’s pillow.

Everyone headed to bed, and as I was cleaning up the kitchen, I heard James come thundering down the stairs, three dollar bills held up over his head.

“The Tooth Fairy already came,” he said.

“You must’ve been first on the delivery route tonight,” I said.

I think the Tooth Fairy’s apprentice has finally learned the ropes.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.