Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Tooth Tales

{Yes, this is a silly clip art Tooth Fairy. Stay with me.}

Do you remember cuddling your inconsolable six-month-old baby? Tears streamed down your own face as you let him gnaw on a warm washcloth and rubbed his gums with what appeared to be placebo gel.

For days that often melted into weeks, your baby was unhappy and you couldn't fix it. No bottle, no diaper, no nothing until that tiny piece of calcium tore its way through your precious child's gum. It resulted in instant relief and a new obsession with biting. All was well until two days later when another tooth started to erupt.

And then, six years later, it falls out in your kid's hot dog.

No, Nora isn't teething. Yes, the teeth Nathan worked so hard to obtain are falling out of his head. Isn't it such a disappointing process? This part doesn't seem nearly as painful, but certain aspects of it have been equally as traumatic. Like the one time Jonathan was talked into pulling a not-quite-ready tooth and couldn't speak of the experience for days because apparently the tooth ripping from the gums made a sound. A horrible, life-altering sound.

Yeah, we've resigned to letting Nathan serve as the sole tooth-puller in this operation.

The reason this subject wedged its way into my brain {like I need a reason to talk about teeth} is because Nathan recently lost number five. Number one came out when he put down his toys, walked into the bathroom and yanked it out. He returned to the living room with his tooth in hand and a look of horror on his face. Number two made the sound. {shudder} Number three was carried into our bedroom at 5:00 AM because "something wiggly" woke Nathan from his peaceful slumber. Number four fell out in the lunchtime fashion described above, and number five was the result of good hygiene.

This last one was special because it was a molar. It was extra special because it was a silver molar. The Tooth Fairy who visits the Bauer house had been cashing out chompers for crisp dollar bills. I'm sure she takes them up to the heavens and combines them with thousands of other bloody pieces of bone to build teeth castles or something {or maybe she just dumps them in the kitchen trashcan}.

No one out there actually keeps them, do they? No judging if you do, just wondering. I just don't know what I'd do with a little medicine bottle full of discarded baby teeth. Make a necklace? Perhaps a craft? Until you can give me a substantial answer, they're going in the trash.

Back to the story at hand {and an amazing story it is!}, the buck-a-tooth plan is a good one. It's better than a quarter and it's still affordable. So far I'd done a good job of disregarding Grampa's suggestion of bigger bills for bigger teeth and I redirected Nathan when one of his buddies said she got a cold $10 for her first tooth. However, I made the mistake of letting this slip from my mouth before he tucked that shiny, silver tooth under his pillow:

"Ooooh, Nathan! I bet the Tooth Fairy will leave something special for a tooth like that!"

Wait a minute. I'm the Tooth Fairy. And not only did I set a new precedent, that precedent is rewarding my son for having had a cavity. Awesome. Still, I bumped that one dollar up to two and tossed in a half-dollar as a shiny, silver trade-off. Luckily Nathan only has one other silver tooth in his head.

Nothing like a little extra motivation to keep this guy cavity-free and proud to be!

Keep on brushing, y'all. Happy Wednesday. :)

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