Enzo was eating an apple. He said one of teeth hurt so I asked him to point out which and nudged it with my finger. Sure enough, loose.
“I have a LOOOSE TOOOTH!?” he exclaimed and laughed with delight at the idea.
At this point Moo reported that she had a lost tooth as well. She pointed to one near the back. Then she left the room for a few minutes. When she came back she assured me that her loose tooth was gone now. Apparently, while she was out of the room the tooth came out and was picked up by the tooth-fairy.
I walked her up to quiet time and came back down to sit with Enz while he finished his lunch. Every time you think he’s finished he asks for more. He eats and eats until I refuse to supply any additional food. This makes his meal times considerably longer than Moo’s. While he ate he discoursed on the exciting events taking place in his mouth.
“Just you and me know about my looose toooth. Right mom?” (He likes to savor the o sounds in “loose” and “tooth”) I reminded him that Moo was here when we discovered it so she knew as well. “But Ziz doesn’t know and Duke is too little to know.” He smiled about his secret.
We decided that he’d call and tell the Mr the good news as soon as he was finished eating. “Then maybe he’ll call Zizza’s teacher and tell her so Zizza will know,” Secrecy was apparently losing it’s appeal. I told him that would probably not happen. He’d just have to wait and tell Ziz when she came home from school.
There he sat at the table eating a piece of bread and jam with a fork. Minuscule bite by minuscule bite he ate it. All the while discussing his grown up-ness, loose toothery and etc. It was the second time in as many weeks I’ve heard one of my children remark to themselves “I am getting SO big,” with the same mixture of pride, dismay and bafflement I feel over the whole thing. The first one was Ziz. Sadly I didn’t get her’s written down quick enough to remember the catalyst of her wonder at her own maturity. (Note to self; write things)
When he eventually finished eating, Enzo did call the Mr to tell him of the wiggling tooth. He ended up leaving a voice mail. That evening he told his father “I talked to your machine today.” He supplied no other context. The Mr got a sort of confused look on his face for a minute while he thought about what machine his young son could possibly have conversed with. Once explanations were made, we all enjoyed yet another loose tooth demonstration.
It’s been days now and no more mention has been made of the escape artist struggling against my boy’s gums. I expect quiet on that front for another few months until it reaches the really floppy stage when string and door knobs start to get involved. I’ll keep you posted.