The Truth Fairy
My son’s bottom middle tooth was loose the entire week leading up to Thanksgiving. He was wiggling it at home, wiggling it to distraction (as his teacher reported) at school, and complaining that he couldn’t sleep at night for fear that his tooth would fall out during the night. Needless to say, we were all quite eager for it to come out. I don’t actually remember losing my own teeth but I guess I imagined they become increasingly loose until they just pop out…clean and simple. Alas that’s not exactly (or even approximately) how it happened with my son’s tooth. My husband was out for the afternoon and I put the two little ones down for naps. My 6-year-old was reading in his room when all of the sudden he appeared in front of me, grasping his bottom lip. Somehow, the tooth had maneuvered so it was now at a 90 degree angle to his row of teeth…yet still attached; he couldn’t close his mouth. So much for “simple.” And “clean?” There was blood everywhere. I tried to see if a quick little tug would make it come out; it didn’t. I tried to push it back into place; it wouldn’t budge. The truth is, the whole thing was pretty gross, and my inclination was to wait until my husband came home to take care of it. But somewhere in my head a quiet voice kept reminding me that I was the grown up…I was going to have to deal with it myself. So I counted to three and gave it a serious yank. The tooth came out, my son was once again able to close his mouth, and the bleeding subsided. A relatively small achievement in the scheme of things, but it’s nice to know that we didn’t need to call in any reinforcements, and no tears were shed…by either one of us.