Friday, September 11, 2009

In other words- you worry too much.

We are all sitting around in the living room when Monkey comes in and climbs inbetween Sgt. G and I. He opens his mouth and points to his top front tooth which is clearly about to fall out. After reassuring Monkey that this is okay and that it will be okay when it falls out he wanders off. I turn to Sgt. G, "Didn't he already lose that tooth?"

The next morning Monkey comes to the table for breakfast and shows G the hole where his tooth had been. It's gone. G manages to find the missing tooth on Monkey's tooth colored carpet and sets it aside for the tooth fairy.

When Monkey gets home from school he shows me his missing tooth and starts counting "one two THREE!!" pointing to the gaping hole in his smile. I do some thinking back and realize that Monkey is correct, this is the third tooth he has lost.

Later on the phone with my mother, I am recounting my shortcomings. I don't know which teeth the kid has lost, I can't tell the baby ones from the permanent ones, or even how many he has lost, and you better believe it isn't in a baby book somewhere. This kid is going to grow up thinking we don't care. My mom interrupts me "Babe, in the grand scheme of things.....igh."

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