He swallowed his front tooth yesterday. It was hanging by a thread (gag) and since I was squeamish about yanking it, we decided to wait for Scott to come home. At snacktime, we had cookies and milk. He came over to me and started grunting. I looked over and there he was grinning happily. There was blood where his tooth used to be. I was thrilled and asked where it was so we could put it under his pillow. He just kept right on grinning and pointed silently at his belly.
Me: "You ate it?"
Him: "Uh huh"
Me: "Did you not feel it in your mouth before you swallowed?"
Me: "What are we going to do now?"
Him: "Maybe go get it?"
At this point I actually considered going to get it. Then I quickly came to me senses. I mean really. You make sacrifices for your children in your life but there has to be a limit. Am I right? Eww. There aren't thick enough gloves in the world for me to get on my knees in front of one of Henry's giant pungent poops to search for a tooth that, face it, we'll only give him a toonie for anyway. So we'll write a note. Something like:
Dear Tooth Fairy,
When I lost my tooth yesterday during snack I thought it was a big crunchy chocolate chip and swallowed it. Can you please overlook the fact that you have no evidence but the double-wide gap in my mouth and hand over my two bucks?
Thanks in advance,
Honestly, having kids can be so much fun. Something they do makes me laugh out loud every single day.
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