L turned 5 just two short months ago. Yesterday, he lost his first tooth. Is he a) dentally precocious? b) mature? c) advanced? or d) did he try to open a container of Play-Doh by himself?
The answer is obviously d. Unable to get the top off, he decided his teeth would provide the needed leverage. He was in for a surprise.
At first he tried to hide it. He jumped up from the table where he was playing with Play-Doh and announced, “I have to go to the bathroom!” and into the bathroom he ran. Great! He’s finally listening to his body.
“Uh, Mommy? My tooth is bleeding.”
“OK. I’ll look at it when you’re done in there.”
“No, Mommy. It’s really bleeding!”
I can hear panic creeping into his voice. I go and check it out. I react badly. This causes full-fledged panic in L. He’s now completely freaked out, bleeding, and apologizing to me. He thinks he’s done something terribly wrong, and I’m not entirely sure that he hasn’t. I try to calm him down, mostly by giving him a wad of wet paper towel to keep him quiet chew on to stop the bleeding.
The issue is that his tooth wasn’t really loose. It was sort-of-beginning-to-seem-like-it-might-one-day-soon-possibly-be-loose. This tooth was not meant to come out yesterday.
Turns out, it’s OK to rip a tooth out of your head a bit prematurely. I finally calm L down with Tooth Fairy promises. We take excited pictures of him exaggeratedly grinning despite his tear streaked face. We talk to grandma and daddy to share the “good news.” Grandma says, “I wonder if you’re even on the Tooth Fairy’s list? You’re only 5. Maybe you need to write her a letter.”
L immediately gets to work dictating the following letter:
Dear Tooth Fairy,
I know that it’s not time for me to lose a tooth, but I losed [sic] a tooth today. And it surprised me. I hope you get me a toy Power Ranger. I know I’m not on the list because I’m only 5. So I’m writing to you to put me on the list. I hope you put me on the list. I love you, Tooth Fairy.
Love, L
Luckily, the Tooth Fairy found his letter where he left it on the front porch for her. She delivered him a matchbox car which changes color when plunged into water. Apparently, it’s OK that she couldn’t find a Power Ranger toy in the supermarket last night. He came running into my room this morning at 3 (3!!!) to show me his new treasure.
The new gap in his smile is a reminder that my little boy isn’t going to be little much longer. Soon he’ll probably knock out his other teeth too.


