My middle child likes to bring skeletons to school for my mother’s library, where there is an impressive collection of preserved snake skins, bug remains, and bones of different origin. If someone is wounded, she’s the first one on the scene because hey- it’s pretty interesting.
I believe the reason that she is almost seven and only just now losing her very first tooth is that when she was not yet three, she fell up a set of stone steps (I did say UP the steps) and jammed her top two teeth up into her gums a ways, perhaps preventing the adult teeth above them from pushing their way down, and so now she is only just seeing a bottom tooth start to wiggle free.
A few weeks ago I had a wisdom tooth removed at the same time we were having our conversation about her loose tooth and the implications of that: the visit from the tooth fairy, the money under the pillow, the removal of the tooth.
“No!” she said to us, horrified. “I don’t want the tooth fairy. I don’t want the money. I’m keeping my tooth. And can you bring your tooth home to me?” She went into her room, brought out a silver jewelry box with a nested ring section and showed us where she plans to keep her teeth.
As of today, Avery’s loose lower tooth remains in her mouth, but my #1 wisdom tooth is nestled in the red velvet folds of the jewelry box.