Today, my eldest son, at six and a half years old, lost his first tooth.
A tiny, bottom left tooth that feels like it has a bigger impact than its size would lead you to believe. Both bottom teeth have been lose for weeks, maybe months. But this morning, as we stood on the stoop about to go to school, he said ‘mom, my tooth is pretty loose this morning.’
I checked it, and sure enough, it was clearly not going to last long. I worried about him losing it at school, swallowing it, dropping it (and freaking out) – so I offered a solution.
‘Want me to pull out, pal?’.
Because that’s what parents do, right?
Okay not everyone. My husband told me later he definitely wouldn’t have done it. But it doesn’t bother me. So I did, the poor tooth was more than ready.
And suddenly, my son, my little guy, had a toothless grin that seemed to age him. He stood staring with amazement at the tooth
‘It’s so tiny! It’s my little baby tooth! Look at the blood!’.
With excitement we left a message for daddy to keep him in the loop. He drank water to rinse his mouth and we ushered to school.
“I can’t wait to show my friends! I’ll say ‘notice something different?’ and they’ll say -‘um, do you have a loose tooth? Are you wearing a hat?’ and I’ll say ‘no! I lost my tooth!’.”
So much excitement for such a big moment. And he was all smiles, walking to the school doors with a little more skip in his step than most days.
He held that smile most of the day. A big smile – now with one less tooth.
(note: yes, the Tooth Fairy will arrive tonight. Coincidentally, his sister had a dentist appointment today and she gave him a little container to put his tooth in. He proudly tucked it under his pillow. He has told us that he’s excited to get his ‘penny’ from the Tooth Fairy. An inexpensive kid, yes? But he’ll find a Toonie under his pillow instead.)
