that my son is growing up, I got one amid of screams of, 'Help me!'
I don't do teeth. I cannot bring myself to touch a loose tooth, and watching a child push on and wiggle a loose tooth with his/her tongue is enough to make me feel dizzy with nausea. While J gripped Log's tooth, I busied myself at the other end of the house. Moments later, Log appeared with his prized front tooth in a ziploc bag and smiled despite the fact his mouth was filled with tissue to blot the one drop of blood that resulted from the entire ordeal.
To celebrate the loss of a recalcitrant front tooth, Log was given the privilege of choosing his dinner (macaroni and cheese, no surprise there) and awarded a special dessert (a cupcake heaped with French buttercream so as to rot the tooth budding through the gums).
One more down!
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