My daughter is scared to death to pull a tooth out of her head. When she lost two bottom teeth last year, there was a lot of drama and trauma involved. So, she decided not to tell me when her two front teeth started to become loose earlier this year. She didn't want me nagging her ass, I guess. I figured it out eventually, however. I've been asking her about the teeth periodically for the past few months.
"How about we pull them out today?"
I just worry that the new teeth are desperate to grow and, if not given a proper opportunity to claim their rightful spot in my daughter's mouth, will revolt and grow in at a 90-degree angle just for spite. I've tried my best not to nag her too much, though. Fast forward to Wednesday night. The three of us kicked off the four-day weekend by going to a hockey game. The kid insisted on sitting in her dad's lap for the entire game (might get a little awkward when she's in her twenties, but seems okay for now). Between plays, she was showing us how she could push out her loosest tooth with her tongue. The tooth was barely hanging on.
When we got home, she brushed her teeth and the gum tissue around the loose tooth started to bleed. I almost had her talked into letting me pull it, but she got spooked and I didn't want to force the issue. I just told her that the tooth would come out eventually, one way or another.
On Thanksgiving Day, we ate dinner and then headed to my friend Sarah's house for dessert. My daughter was playing with her sons. The boys are roughly the same age as A and they get along pretty well. Anyway, my husband and I were sitting outside when I got word that my kid was bleeding. I'm not one to panic but I hurried inside to find out the scoop. I found my daughter in the bathroom, crying and clutching a Kleenex up to her mouth. I knew right away that the tooth had made its escape at last.
Apparently, the boys had been showing A their parents' new treadmill. My daughter climbed aboard willingly. I'm not sure what the speed setting was, but what I do know is that my child is not super coordinated. She plunged face first onto the belt, knocking her tooth out in spectacular fashion. The tread marks from the rubber were imprinted in her nose and lip. So, there it was - our Thanksgiving excitement. I sat with her in the bathroom, attempting to console her. "I won't get any moneys because I don't know where the tooth is!" she wailed.
"The boys will find it," I assured her. Sure enough, the boys rounded the corner right at that moment, tooth in hand.
"Hey, can I see the blood? asked the younger one.
I imagine we won't soon forget this Thanksgiving! It doesn't really show up in the photo below, but she still has the treadmill marks on her nose and lip. And now she's snaggle-toothed, but still cute as all get out. Oh, and she's four dollars richer.