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A few weeks ago all of us were sitting at dinner when G complained that his tooth hurt. As he reached in his mouth to touch it we all saw the reason: That baby was loose. His first one.
Hubby looked at me with surprise and a bit of panic. “Is he really old enough to lose a tooth?” he asked me.
His expression was exactly the way I felt. Our sweet boy is too young! He’s not allowed to go through the kids’ rites of childhood!
“Yeah, I guess so. I think I lost all my baby teeth by the end of my kindergarten year,” I stammered out. And then Hubby was relieved. The man was not worried about our child continually growing up, getting ever closer to not needing us and moving out of the house, but instead worried that poor dental hygiene was the cause of G‘s loose tooth. Whatever.
G was thrilled. THRILLED. G would show anybody who would stop and listen that he had a loose tooth.
Then one night Hubby told him that he could pull out the lose tooth with pliers, to which G excitedly agreed. Pliers. Dirty pliers from the garage. Trusting little G sat down on a chair in front of his daddy while Hubby tried to fit them around
the tooth without cracking it. When Hubby got up to find a smaller pair G finally asked me the right question. “Will this hurt?”
“Um, yeah Baby, for a minute.”
“But will I cry?” he pushed.
“Maybe.” Or, YES, if it is done with pliers.
He chickened out. No, it wasn’t chickening out, he just came to his senses. So for the last few weeks we’ve checked on that tooth every day, I reminded him to wiggle it, and finally that thing hung on by a thread.
Then Tuesday morning the kids were helping me make banana pancakes with chocolate chips, and while the pancakes cooked on the stove we snacked on some chocolate chips. Then surprise from G. “Oh, Mommy, is this my tooth?” he asked as he pulled it from his mouth.
Finally. And all it needed to fall out was a little chocolate chip.
A few weeks ago all of us were sitting at dinner when G complained that his tooth hurt. As he reached in his mouth to touch it we all saw the reason: That baby was loose. His first one.
Hubby looked at me with surprise and a bit of panic. “Is he really old enough to lose a tooth?” he asked me.
His expression was exactly the way I felt. Our sweet boy is too young! He’s not allowed to go through the kids’ rites of childhood!
“Yeah, I guess so. I think I lost all my baby teeth by the end of my kindergarten year,” I stammered out. And then Hubby was relieved. The man was not worried about our child continually growing up, getting ever closer to not needing us and moving out of the house, but instead worried that poor dental hygiene was the cause of G‘s loose tooth. Whatever.
G was thrilled. THRILLED. G would show anybody who would stop and listen that he had a loose tooth.
Then one night Hubby told him that he could pull out the lose tooth with pliers, to which G excitedly agreed. Pliers. Dirty pliers from the garage. Trusting little G sat down on a chair in front of his daddy while Hubby tried to fit them around
the tooth without cracking it. When Hubby got up to find a smaller pair G finally asked me the right question. “Will this hurt?”
“Um, yeah Baby, for a minute.”
“But will I cry?” he pushed.
“Maybe.” Or, YES, if it is done with pliers.
He chickened out. No, it wasn’t chickening out, he just came to his senses. So for the last few weeks we’ve checked on that tooth every day, I reminded him to wiggle it, and finally that thing hung on by a thread.
Then Tuesday morning the kids were helping me make banana pancakes with chocolate chips, and while the pancakes cooked on the stove we snacked on some chocolate chips. Then surprise from G. “Oh, Mommy, is this my tooth?” he asked as he pulled it from his mouth.
Finally. And all it needed to fall out was a little chocolate chip.
