My children were talling me the other day that the Ear Wax Fairy collects ear wax and sells it to the tooth fairy to use as mortar when building her fairy castle out of teeth.
“Every time a child belches at the dinner table, a fairy dies.” The earwax fairy would be high on my list.
The wax?
No no, it is the hair that is the problem, yes Dex-boy?
I swear this by the spectacles of my Godmother’s llama, yes? 
In this book, the actual tooth is lost, so it can’t be cashed in for an ice cream cone. Jane finds a seagull feather, and, with the impeccible logic of childhood, determines that losing a feather for a seagull is similar enough to a kid losing her tooth that she can cash in the feather for the ice cream.
It therefore became a tradition in our family, that finding a feather when out for a walk entitled us to ice cream.
When our son lost his first tooth he what the TF does with the teeth she collects. At the time, his young cousin was about ready to get her first baby teeth, so we suggested that perhaps the tooth fairy gives the collected teeth to other youngsters. It made my son very proud to think that his vestigial teeth might be used to help his younger cousin.
There was a fantastic, creepy, bizarre book I read as a child called Behind the Attic Wall (boy, did I love “abandonded orphaned children” literature!) with this strange old uncle who tells exactly what the Tooth Fairy does with all those teeth: she makes tooth tea! But once in a while, she gets confused, and uses two teeth instead of one, which results in two tooth tea. “Two tooth tea is too, too tart!”
She gives them to the Langoliers.
Well, I should hope he’d get the door slammed in his face, using such terrible grammar; imagine, a third person singular verb used with a first person singular subject.