THE tooth fairy has been a regular visitor to our house over the years. She knows the way off by heart. The milk teeth of four children have been safely collected and a small fortune in 50p pieces faithfully left in their place. But we've just had what may well be the first recorded case of the tooth fairy being asked bring a tooth back...

The Little 'Un, aged seven, had appeared by the side of our bed at midnight last Saturday, whispering: "Mum, Dad, my tooth's come out. Wake up - look." The molar had been wobbling for days and had finally succumbed to the inevitable. Mum, only half-conscious, flicked on a light, opened one eye and said: "It's OK - just go back to bed and put it under your pillow."

I was woken with a start on Sunday morning as she leapt out of bed in a panic, just as the clock was approaching 9am. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Tooth fairy. Forgot. Got to get the tooth. Find 50p. Mustn't wake him up," she mumbled, pulling on her dressing gown. Luckily, he was still fast asleep and she managed to extricate the tooth and slide the coin under the pillow without him stirring. Phew!

She got back into bed and we managed to snooze for another half an hour before the Little 'Un reappeared in our room, this time with tears in his eyes. "Look," he said, holding out his 50p for us to see.

"Oh, the tooth fairy's been - that's nice," said Mum.

"No it isn't," he whimpered. "I didn't get chance to see my tooth in the daylight. I didn't want the tooth fairy to take it away."

Sometimes, you just can't win, can you? He's normally a boy so desperate for money that he'd fight his own father for profit.

"Dad, fancy a wrestle for a pound?" he asks on a regular basis.

In fact, it was during one of our wrestling matches that the tooth had become loose in the first place (although I still lost by three submissions to two).

But despite this new-found obsession with earning cash through professional wrestling, 50p was no substitute for his tooth - he just wanted it back. Luckily, the tooth fairy had put the tooth in her bedside drawer, along with several others she'd saved.

"Which one was it?" she asked, giving me a choice of three on the palm of her hand. How the hell was I supposed to know? I'd stayed in bed while the tooth fairy was pinching teeth prematurely. "Not a clue," I said. "Well, you're a fat lot of help. I think it was this one," she replied and, naturally, I told her I was sure she was right.

That night, an age-old ritual was played out in reverse: 50p was placed under the Little 'Un's pillow so it could be swapped for a tooth. He appeared by our bed the following morning, with the returned tooth in his hand and a gummy smile on his face. "The tooth fairy came back and it's definitely the same tooth 'cos it's got the same bits of blood on it," he said, proudly. "She's taken the 50p back though... Fancy a wrestle for a pound, Dad?"

THE THINGS THEY SAY

AS promised, more anecdotes from the South Durham branch of the University of the Third Age...

EX-teacher Margaret Smart recalled the time she was working in a nursery school in Canada and she and a little boy called Seth were looking forward to their birthdays, which fell on the same day. Seth was laying it on thick: "I'm going to be five, I'm going to be five," he sang. "Well, I'm going to be 25," replied Margaret. Seth glared at her, clearly not happy about sharing his birthday with anyone, and said: "Ladies never tell their age."

IN southern Ontario, where Margaret lived, beautiful peaches grew in abundance. One child in her class, looking forward to summer, asked: "When are the suede apples coming?"

THERE are plenty of sticky moments with kids. Margaret Edbury told how her friend Rosemary, a teacher, had collected her four-year-old during his first week at nursery school. Charles approached her, chewing away on something, despite having been given the "no chewing gum" lecture before he started nursery.

"Charles, have you got chewing gum in your mouth?" she scolded.

"Yes, Mummy."

"Chewing gum is dirty, Charles, and I bet you've had that from someone else's mouth."

"No, Mummy, I haven't," replied the little boy, innocently, "I found it on my shoe."

DON'T FORGET!

THE third book in the Dad At Large series: "Dad At Large 3 - Whose Paper Round Is It Anyway?" is launched on Saturday at Ottakar's bookshop in the Cornmill Centre, Darlington. Peter Barron will be signing copies between 10am and 3pm. The book costs £5, with £1 for each copy sold going to the Butterwick Children's Hospice. It's the perfect Christmas gift for the poor, hard-done-by dad in your life!