My five-year-old son, Eli, lost his first tooth last week. We were all excited, the tooth fairy especially. She left Eli $5! Well, it was his first tooth after all.

Then a few nights later, when my husband and I were out on date night, he lost his second tooth. When we got home around 8pm (I know that’s embarrassing for date night, but we get up really early). Anyway, he was still sitting up in his bed waiting to tell us the good news. We were excited and both my husband and I made mental notes to be sure and leave a dollar in the little tooth fairy tooth box. Needless to say, we both forgot. (Okay, don’t call CPS. It was an honest mistake. We just got busy doing other stuff and then fell into bed exhausted.)

Morning came and flooded with expectation, Eli opened his little box to find nothing but his sweet little tooth still sitting there just as he’d left it. “There is no tooth fairy!” he wailed. As his little sobs grew stronger, my older son, Levi (9), awoke and rushed into his brother’s room next door. “No, Eli,” he said. “The tooth fairy did come! She just got a little confused. She came into my room accidentally.” He then ran into his room and grabbed four quarters from his desk drawer before racing back into Eli’s room. “See?” he said, holding out his hand full of coins. “She said to be sure and give these to you. So, here you go.”

Eli smiled with renewed awe and wonder. His brother had saved the tooth fairy for him. But bigger than that, Levi had come to his brother’s rescue as only a sibling can. I’m really gonna try and remember that the next time he steals Eli’s Sponge Bob pillow and torments him by threatening to throw the yellow, porous quadrilateral into the trash bin.