Daughter lost her first tooth this weekend. And her second. They had been loose for a couple of weeks, but the timing of the actual loss couldn’t have been more exciting. We had just ridden the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier in Chicago. She had just struggled to eat a hot dog at a Mexican restaurant overlooking Lake Michigan. The hot dog must have done the trick, because moments after we left the restaurant Husband reached into her little mouth and pulled out that tooth. There was a little bit of blood but a lot of excitement. There were phone calls to the grandparents. There was a posting on Facebook. There was jumping up and down and lots of hugs.
The next day tooth number two started to work it’s way out of her gums. We tried to pull it before she went to bed, but it just bled and didn’t budge. The next morning it was gone. No sign of bleeding and no sign of the tooth. Yet it was clearly not in her mouth. Figuring she swallowed it, we started getting ready for the airport. Thirty minutes later she found it, there in the sheets that we had scoured earlier. Amazing. White tooth, white sheets, found. Little girl happy again.
The tooth fairy found us in Chicago and found us again when we got home. She’s most excited that she lost her tooth on a vacation, and none of us will ever forget that Ferris Wheel. Ever.