I don’t know if you’ll remember today by the time you read this, but today you lost your first tooth. Literally. In both ways you can take that sentence.
And man, is Mommy sad about that…
First off, your very first tooth, that popped out of your lower gums nearly five years ago, was named “Fred”, after one of Mommy’s co-workers. She named all of your teeth. Every single one of them. Some of them have less-than-interesting names (sadly, they happened during the months of July and August when were were first moving to Costa Rica, and originality was a bit lacking for all the other things we had to do), but you can pull up Mommy’s Map of your Mouth, and see them all, including the dates they first appeared.
Fred was joined very shortly afterwards by “Christena”, Fred’s immediate neighbour. Mommy is very anxious that Christena not befall Fred’s fate, for a number of reasons.
Now as for the second part, Fred started getting loose about two weeks ago. I was a little worried, since I honestly think it’s too early that you’re starting to loose teeth — maybe I’m old fashioned, but “older” just strikes me as being right. (That said, I don’t remember losing any of my foreteeth, though I have some fond memories of the sucking feeling from when my molars were loose.) While I didn’t really believe it at first, sure enough, it was loose. And it got looser and looser.
Yesterday, you could push Fred at a right angle to its previously anchored position, with only the nerve and blood vessel still connecting it. It was only a matter of time … or a pair of pliers, which you never let me go get, I should add. (Chicken.)
When I came home today, you were sitting with Erin and Mommy, munching on chips and drinking “tea” (I have no idea what the tea was). I was putting away dishes when Mommy suddenly shrieked: “It’s gone!” At first I had no idea what she meant, when it was quickly pointed out that Fred had disappeared — a gap, the first since your smile was made whole, remained.
Thus began the mad scramble — where had Fred gone? It wasn’t on the counter, the floor, the chair, your clothes, the chip bowl, your room, your laundry, or anywhere else that we could determine. The inevitable conclusion, it seems, is that you somehow swallowed Fred. Sadly, we will likely never see Fred again.
So we’re leaving an apology note to the Tooth Fairy under your pillow. Hopefully she/he doens’t mind that we can’t actually cough up the evidence.
You really did lose your first tooth. Please don’t lose your second one.