Who really knows why people are upset by certain things and not so much by others?  Our daughter, for instance, recently went through breaking her arm and is still in a cast.  She has truly sailed through the experience, with the exception of the night it happened, but losing teeth seems to be an entirely different story.

Our daughter loses her teeth in pairs.   Last year, her bottom teeth were both wiggling at the same time and now, perhaps predictably, her two upper front teeth have fallen out within days of one another.  I shouldn’t give the impression that these have been experiences free from profound ordeal.

To say that she likes to hang onto her teeth is an understatement.  She wiggles her loose teeth extremely gingerly, as though they were made of the finest crystal.  Last year, her bottom front adult teeth had almost fully erupted and yet those baby teeth were still hanging on.  The adult teeth were growing in behind her baby teeth, tilting toward her throat.  I sat her on my lap and insisted that either I would take them out, or the dentist would.  After multiple protests, she finally complied, and settled down to let me do my work.  Two teeth came out within 30 minutes, and she was thrilled to get double the Tooth Fairy booty in one night.

This time around was no different.  Both of her top teeth have been loose since early in the summer.  The quick math makes that 4 months.  Again our daughter has refused to really work at getting those teeth out and she flatly refused to let me have a go at either of them.  Two days ago, she was chatting away to me in the kitchen when one of her teeth landed on her bottom lip.  She was thrilled.

One down, one to go.

She allowed me a momentary wiggle last night and I gave it a good twist.  She was annoyed with me but I knew we had made some headway.  Likely due to overstepping my wiggling rights last night, she refused to let either of us go anywhere near her tooth today.  She hotly replied, “Shop’s CLOSED!”, whenever I requested a look.  A furtive glance showed that the tooth had turned a putrid grey colour and was now dangling like a doomed Christmas tree ornament.  I told her that if she didn’t get that tooth out of her mouth soon, the Tooth Fairy wouldn’t want it.  She retorted that all teeth eventually turn black and that the Tooth Fairy doesn’t care.  I tried.

Tonight I resorted to tickling her to make her laugh so that she would open her mouth and I could have a go at that tooth.  We wrestled on her bed and I made a grab for her mouth when she started laughing.  Every time, she would clamp her mouth shut at the last second.  I went in for the kill, tickling her most ticklish ribs with my left hand and reaching for the tooth with my right.  She jerked her head to the side, bumping the knuckle of my thumb against her front tooth and…POP!  Out came the tooth onto the quilt.  She looked very surprised, and then held it up to show me, grinning from ear to ear.

I couldn’t help giggling at her goofy, gapped, vampirish smile, even though it made me a little sad to see her growing up so fast.  I pulled her close and told her I would miss her baby teeth but that I absolutely loved her new big girl smile.

She snuggled into my arms, smiled up at me and said, “Thankth mommy…you’re the betht.”

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