Morton J. Marcus is an economist formerly with the Kelley School of Business, Indiana University. His column appears in Indiana newspapers.

           She isn’t there, but I can hear her voice: “What do you want your children and grandchildren to believe about life?”

          “Who or what are you?” I ask.

          “I’m the Tooth Fairy, but your grandson denies my existence,” she answers.

          “Yes,” I reply, remembering our six-year old grandson sneered when asked what he expected from the Tooth Fairy as he lost his first baby tooth.

          “What have you been doing to that child?” she asks. “My long career is threatened by his refusal to believe in me.”

          “We didn’t do anything,” I say. “He picked that up in kindergarten or earlier, in pre-school”

          “Maybe it’s all to the good,” she sighs. “Maybe my day is gone.”

          “How is that?” I ask gently.

          “Parents and grandparents have no idea what to put under the pillow,” she replies. “Most put some money there, while others put an unhealthy piece of candy. None put down carrots or celery.”

          “What’s wrong with money?” I ask.

          “How much?” she sobs. “Will a dime do? Or should it be more to account for inflation?”

           “More than a dime?” I gasp. “That’s what I got for my first tooth.”

          “Precisely, but that was back in 1944, in World War II. Do you know what’s necessary today to equate with a dime back then? Today, you’d have to give that child $1.35 to equal the buying power of a dime 70 years ago.”

          “That doesn’t seem extravagant,” I say. “I did give my children 25 cents for their teeth in the ‘60s and ‘70s.”

          “That’s about right,” the Tooth Fairy says. “A dime in 1944 required a payment of 22 cents in 1970 to maintain purchasing power. But what are we teaching children when we pay them for their teeth?”

          “That’s simple,” I say. “We’re telling them growing up means changing and change is nothing to fear, it’s part of life. We’re saying the small discomfort of losing a tooth is offset by the choices opened with a dime, a quarter or $1.35 to spend.”

          “I like that,” she says. “My thoughts went in the other direction. I felt a gift for losing a tooth taught children they would be rewarded, not for what they did, but for what happens to them, something that happens to everyone.”

          “I see,” I say. “That is a depressing thought.”

          “Yet that’s exactly what we are doing,” she continues. “We’re teaching our children to expect rewards when none are due. Losing a tooth is not an achievement.”

          “Then,” I add, “You think the rewards in life should be based on the actions of a person, not what befalls him/her. You must oppose the Indiana lottery and other forms of gambling where winning or losing is based on chance, not on merit.”

          “Exactly,” she cries. “All these years I’ve been the poster girl for inappropriate parental behavior. What a waste of the immortality given me by the faith of children!”