Today my husband reached Saint Status. Parker has been saying that her tooth has been loose for a while now. At six year’s old, she’s had yet to lose them when all of her friends have lost theirs. Her annual doctor’s appointment showed that she’s grown four and a half inches this past year, jumping from the 48th to 70th percentile in height – a big leap for someone with gigantor cousins who have been in the 99th percentile since birth. She was on track with everything except her teeth and I feared she’d have baby teeth until 5th grade. Her doctor assured me all was well and then said “She’ll probably lose them all at once.”
Fast forward to today. I managed to complete my third ice-skating class without knocking any of my teeth out and Parker’s tooth started to wiggle a lot during her class. By lunch time at Panera, she bit down and it started to bleed. Parker, who had been anxiously waiting to join her peers in the toothless league, started wailing about wishing she still had all of her teeth – I think the blood freaked her out and she reverted to baby status hopping right onto my lap.
She calmed down long enough to tentatively get into the car and head to her friend’s Christmas party. By arrival she was back to normal showing everyone her loose tooth. I was frantically sending Larry texts about having to pull her tooth when she got home because I could not bear to do it. As I’m texting away Park comes over with a smile on her face and a conspicuous hole in her mouth – her tooth came out on her own! Problem was, it was no where to be found – I think she ate it with her pepperoni pizza.
I took pictures texting them to family members and she proudly showed her smile to Larry when we got home. Then she complained her stomach hurt and she had to go to the bathroom – and she had to do number two. Larry runs in there like a surgeon yelling back to me “get me some plastic silverware.” No… no!!!! I began thinking, do not tell me this man is going to dissect a bowel movement to find her first tooth. I thought, that is a saint; that is a man who worships his daughter; that is my husband! That’s the kind of man you want to marry: one who dives in a toilet just for a tooth. Five minutes later he emerged defeated with sweat on his face and a tightly wrapped plastic bag with plastic ware. The tooth was no where to be found.
As I screamed at him to double wrap the bag, Park complained again of her stomach hurting, at which point he yelled to me “You’ve got round two!” So much for Sainthood! I said a few choice words back to him and we resumed our very human lives – he ran back to watch the football game, Park celebrated her milestone with the Disney Channel, and I found another thing to write about.
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