Another one down

Picture this: a Monday morning rush. Right after I had just matted down the bedhead on CJ’s hair, then grabbing my necessities on the way out of my bedroom to head out for the day and drop him off at school, we were interrupted by a memorable event: he lost his third tooth. One of the front ones. It was one of those repetitive, rushed moments of a morning that turned into a silly escapade of both of us on bent knees with our fingers roaming through the carpet searching for the lost tooth. He was fussing with the tooth, as he had been for weeks now, trying to wiggle it out of his mouth, and this time it worked. Next thing I know I hear a “ping” sound ricochet off the metal frame on my bed, and the tooth goes missing into the long fibers of the beige carpet. These suckers are really tiny, but our quick search yields nothing. And the school bell would be ringing soon, so we had to leave. This afternoon, when I checked in with my husband to see if he had found it, he hadn’t.

“I just told him that I was sure the tooth fairy would find it herself.”

I can see it now. Sometime in the not too distant future, as a cheerio falls on the carpet and my 2 year old goes to retrieve it, he’ll be munching on a lost tooth instead.

I still have a few hours left to find it before bedtime. If not, the fairy will be on her own.