I was puttering around in my pajamas this morning, feeling a little… well… punky, I guess, and being glad that I had another half an hour to drag myself into the shower before the sitter arrived…
… when the sitter arrived. Nothing will make you feel your (old and decrepit) age faster than opening the door, braless, for a gorgeous 16-year-old. Who is so taken aback by your dishevelled appearance that she begins apologizing immediately.
Well, it was a little mix-up, and no big deal. The sitter settled in to watch breakfast cartoons with the kids while I showered and got dressed, then I came downstairs and sent the kids up to get ready for the day. The sitter and I were chatting when a SHRIEK came from above, followed by the sound of a small child descending the staircase at warp speed.
“What is it? What happened?? I was on my feet and moving towards the sound before I’d even processed it. The sitter was hot on my heels. A blur streaked past us. And then again.
Monkey was running through the lower level in the house in circles, doing laps, pinwheeling his arms. “I… I… I…” he sputtered. He did not appear to be bleeding or on fire, so I relaxed a bit.
“You WHAT?” He lapped us again, and now I leaned against the wall, biding my time.
“I… I was…” he passed us AGAIN. I was getting dizzy. I reached out and grabbed his shoulders. “I WAS BRUSHING MY TEETH AND MY TOOTH FELL OUT!” This was punctuated at the end with a triumphant display of… bloody gums. I let him go.
“Wow! That’s AWESOME! Now please go rinse out your mouth, honey… you’re bleeding.”
“I am? COOL!” He ran off to the bathroom to inspect matters.
Six years and seven months, and we finally have the first baby tooth out. Praise the Lord. Not that I was worried or anything. I mean, it was sort of funny, at first, and I was mostly kidding when I said, later, that I was sure he was going to have two full rows of teeth forever.
But this way, this way is SO MUCH BETTER! It meant that we got to talk about the lost tooth ALL DAY LONG. How it FEELS and how it LOOKS and WHAT SHALL WE EAT THAT WON’T BOTHER THE TOOTH HOLE and so on. “I have to go admire myself,” he declared, the moment the sitter brought them home from the library.
“Did he just say…?” she asked me, certain she’d heard wrong.
“Yes. Yes he did. Go look.” And we peeked around the corner, and sure enough, there was Monkey in the bathroom, peering at himself in the mirror, practicing his new smile.
Mark your calendars. August 9th, National Monkey Tooth Day.
Anyway, I really wanted to bring the REST of the day up to a similar level of excitingness, if not to COMPETE with the thrill of the lost tooth, to at least MESH with it. But my efforts were futile, because yesterday I pretended to be All Better Now and today it bit me in the butt.
Today, I was tired. Soooooo tired. Unable to make decisions tired. Oh yeah, aren’t you recovering from the plague? tired. Not really entirely done with being sick tired. That kind of tired. And as a result, the tooth thing truly was the most exciting thing to happen here today. By 1:00 this afternoon I was brightly suggesting that we all take naps! And Chickadee walked up to my desk chair (where I sat, trying to work, but mostly trying to stay awake) and patted my cheeks and said that they were maybe going to read some books but that I should probably lay down for a bit because I was looking sleepy.
She’s smart, that kid.
So I did manage to rest a little—in spite of the excitement of the lost tooth—and the remainder of the day was uneventful. Really, what could compare to a nap? I mean, to losing your first tooth?
Nothing, that’s what.