Well, we were driving to the park when my six year old son loudly proclaimed that his wiggly tooth fell out! He held it up proudly and quickly showed me his bloody stumped pearl and then, just as fast, popped it back in his mouth again.
"No! Don't put it back in your mouth!! It's not candy!!!" Said I. I could just envision the hysteria that would ensue if the tooth was accidentally swallowed. This tooth fairy isn't dumpster diving into poop piles in search of a tooth that is about the size of an eighth of a tic tac.
"I can't believe I lost a tooth!" He just kept repeating it and giggling. Like it was a rite of passage into first grade. This is the third tooth he's lost now. He lost the first two teeth about a year ago, not long after he started kindergarten. He can't wait to tell the kids in his class tomorrow at school and proudly display his new gap. The innocence of the moment was quickly squelched when he asked if we could stop off at the McDonald's (right next to the park) to get an apple juice box so he could drink the juice and hopefully counteract the taste of blood in his mouth. He's such a little man.
We carefully brought the tooth home. (I knew if we dropped it, we would never find it) My gosh, it's the dinkiest little toofy-doodle. That's what we call teeth around here. Well, that's what I call teeth around here. Toofy-doodles. He placed the little gem in a ziploc baggie. Somehow the tooth did make it to its final resting place under his pillow. I checked just a few minutes ago and made the switch. A crumpled up dollar bill now has a new home under his pillow.
I'm sure in the morning I will hear all about the big plans he has in spending that dollar. New match box car, no doubt.