About a week, week and a half ago, Henry declared a tooth to be "wiggly."
Here's the thing, I think loose teeth are GROSS. I think giant adult teeth growing into sweet baby mouths is atrocious. I THINK IT SUCKS.
I know, it's part of life, we all get through it one way or another (*for most the way is orthadontics!* ) but still. I'm not a fan.
And I was thrilled to have no crossed this road yet with any of my children. I hoped against hope we'd avoid it until Henry hit second grade, which is when I started losing teeth. Blech.
But, alas. It wasn't meant to be. I assumed he was just joshin' me. Surely, he saw some episode of Curious George wherein someone lost a tooth, right? And he then decided it was his turn? Of course.
Except a few days later, I noticed the tooth looked decided loose.
So, I lectured him intensely about LEAVING IT ALONE. DO NOT PULL IT OUT. DO NOT PLAY WITH IT! "The adult tooth" said I, "is pushing the baby tooth out. Let it do it's job."
I was very solemn in my declaration to NOT HELP the process. Really, I didn't want strings tied to teeth and doors slammed. I didn't want brothers thinking THEY should be losing teeth too. I'm terrified, frankly, of the whole dang institution.
So, today, just before lunch, I noticed him slinking around.
"Henry, what's up?" I asked. The kid can NOT be deceptive, despite his efforts.
"Come here, what have you got?" I asked.
"COME HERE!" I demanded.
He slunk over and produced a tiny white tooth.
I swallowed my desire to run away crying and pasted a grin on my face. "WOW! Bud! It came out! Did you yank on it a bit?"
"No! I was just wiggling it. It came out." Henry swore. He also said it didn't hurt a bit.
There was a bit of blood to clean up and then lunch. All was well.
Later, he was pouty.
"What's the problem, Dude?" I asked.
"It's just... why didn't the adult tooth push the baby tooth out?" Henry cried.
"It did!" I said. "It happened just as it should."
"But there is a HOLE IN MY MOUTH!" He cried louder.
Oh. Whoops. He assumed there would be an IMMEDIATE replacement. My bad.
"What is wrong??" I demanded.
"THIS HOLE RUINS MY SMILE!"
So, when it came time to take a picture of the hole in his head, this was the best smile I could coax. Because the hole ruins his smile.