Miss M Loses a Tooth

Today, Miss M lost her first tooth. I cried. It’s certainly a milestone when one’s firstborn loses that tooth and I’m sentimental anyway.

A few weeks ago, I had one of her homeschooling friends over for a play date, who bit into a piece of toast (Ezekiel low-sodium) and started bleeding and crying. Her tooth was loose. I made a big deal of it, called her mom and told Miss M that one day soon she, too, would lose her tooth. What a glorious day it would be!

Not less than a week later, Miss M was using her teeth to open her Silly Strawberry toothpaste when OUCH! Her own bloody, loose tooth.

On a side note, Miss M lied (unusual for her) about how this happened for a moment, despite me being right next to the bathroom. She said she hit her face on the wall. The brain surgeon was like, “Oh my gosh! She knocked her tooth out,” but I knew better. She had no marks on her face and I didn’t hear a major slam against the wall. For a smart guy…(just kidding, Honey).

Anyway, it was the same tooth (bottom-middle-left and I don’t know the tooth number for you dentist types) as her friend and – once the shock wore off – she was thrilled. Then she told me the truth with a, “Sorry, Mom. I thought you would have been mad that I opened the toothpaste with my teeth.” (I wouldn’t have.)

But what really pissed me off was today (only two days later) at the YMCA, the brain surgeon comes to trade with me because I’m taking this writing class while he’s around during his research time. Miss M kept asking when the tooth fairy would come.

I was occupied with BooBoo and L-man when all of the sudden, Miss M is jumping up and down, bloodied like Carrie on prom night (face and hands), screaming that daddy pulled her tooth.

And when I say “screaming,” I mean in that way only a 5-year-old girl can do. It was an odd scene. Now the tooth fairy would come.

I can’t describe how annoyed I was, but the brain surgeon knew with just one look at me. “She asked me to pull it,” he stammered sheepishly.

And indeed, she was bloodied, but joyful. “I did, Mommy. I said, ‘pull it’ and he did and it didn’t hurt at all!”

I should have just been happy, but the truth is, I had unfinished plans. I wanted to photograph her tooth and videotape her wiggling it. So what if it had been a couple days? Most kids wiggled for at least a week and it takes me time to get my act together, but I had plans.

I had a dream – and the brain surgeon shattered it.

And I wanted to put it under her pillow. But I had to buck up and smile for the sake of my bloody little girl. I got excited. I jumped up and down. I cleaned her up. I went to class.

When I came home, I wrote a note from the tooth fairy and covered it with glitter glue. I found a yellow feather (from an art kit she received and not very vegan, I suppose) and placed it with the note and a shiny quarter in a bag (Call me cheap, but I’m not the type to leave a twenty). Then, I went in and felt under her pillow for the tooth.

This turned out to be remarkably easy, as the brain surgeon had placed it in Tupperware. Tupperware???

(By the way, if you want Tupperware, get it by ordering it from my friend at colbyandbigo@yahoo.com. She's a SAHM and will tell you all about why Tupperware is safer plastic and about her favorite products.

Anyhow, my daughter – who figured out that the Easter Bunny does not exist and that some of the Disney Princesses at parties are “imposters” – was beyond thrilled that the tooth fairy came and then volunteered to do a tooth wiggling reenactment for our video camera.

Toodles!