Rapunzel is at the age where she should be losing teeth, right and left. Only a few months ago she lost her first tooth and it was a momentous occasion, as these events typically are. When this celebrated whitish, calcified structure found its way out of her mouth, Rapunzel grinned with glee, showing a mouth full of blood. The precious tooth was placed under her pillow and thankfully the Tooth Fairy happened by and placed a five Franc coin under her pillow. Contrary to your belief, this is not a misprint. She actually garnered five hot ones for a little piece of calcium. The next day Rapunzel, fueled by the missing mouth piece and five bones in her pocket, headed to school to show all her friends. I picked her up from school and noted the dejected expression worn like a mask. Apparently her friends didn’t think this was as special as she did. She was the last person in all of first grade to lose a tooth. This was old news; girlfriend jumped on the gummy bandwagon far too late.
I believe, however, that this time she has a far more impressive story to tell. Rapunzel had been showing off her loose tooth for, what felt like, ages. I get sehr squeamish around loose teeth and most body parts that do things they’re not supposed to in general. She was constantly running up to me, wiggling it, trying her hardest to prove how hardcore she was. “I can move it back and forth!!! It doesn’t hurt!!” Well, it hurts my brain to watch that, so let’s put it to rest. This morning at breakfast, she started crying after biting into her bread. “It hurts! My tooth! Ah, I hurt my tooth!” As she tunneled out her bread to get the soft parts, I enlightened her by sharing what some people do when they have a stubborn loose tooth. “When a tooth just doesn’t want to come out, you can tie a piece of string to your tooth, tie the other end to a door, and give that door a good slam. POP! Out comes the tooth.” Her fearful expression told me all I needed to know about her thoughts on that idea.
Cut to later in the day as I’m lounging on a chair reading my book. I see Rapunzel tying a piece of string to her tooth. She comes to me and says she’s tying it on there in hopes it will fall out. You’re missing one crucial step, sweet baby angel, and that would be a little acceleration. For the rest of the afternoon she walked around with this string like a tail out of her mouth. The Dad called me down for before-dinner drinks around 6:30. As I was making my way outside I heard a yelp of apprehension, a small squeak/scream, and sounds of celebration. Apparently the Dad had come upon her quick like a bunny, snatched the string and gave it a good yank. Thus, the tooth finally exited her mouth. She was too shocked to be upset, and again, with a mouth full o’ blood she smiled at me and informed me that the tooth was gone. When she went inside to clean up the Dad turns to me, hands me a glass of wine, and says, “I just couldn’t stand seeing that string anymore.” The joy of parenting.