Sunday, August 21, 2005

The Cutest Gap Ever

The Boy finally lost that loose top front tooth. And how, you ask? Apple? Doorknob? Au contraire, mes amis.

It was his sister's foot.

This tooth has been loose all summer, but Friday, when I went to pick the kids up from daycare, I saw that it was now hanging on by a thread. I mean, it was like a broken shutter--the thing was all crooked and half fallen out, but the Boy would not hear of us pulling it out. Rats! We got a chewy candy from the next class, but it did nothing but push the tooth to a crazy 90-degree angle. He was staying for the school's "late night", and he'd be eating pizza, so I was sure that would do the trick. Nope. Fortunately, we had an attack of Cute Sister Saturday morning. The Girl was just so darned cute that I declared I was going to have to eat her up.

"Me, too!" shouted the Boy, grabbing her foot. "Give me some meat!" And with that, he play-chomped her toes, and voila. He was so thrilled, he spent the whole day hugging the Girl and calling her his hero. And what a day it was, because just after the Losing of the Tooth we headed out to the town's annual Festival, where we ate brats and snowcones and played cheap carnival games and bought a few trinkets and completely failed to get change. The result being that the Tooth Fairy left a whopping $5 for that tooth. I told the Boy it must have been worth so much more because he'd been doing a better job of brushing. Yeesh.

All went well until the Girl began waking up ever 1/2 hour. A few hours of this and I was getting cranky, but then she turned the tables on me by barfing. Oh, poor little bean! So we were up and down the rest of the night. By about 10:00 this morning she was feeling better, but I collapsed face-down on the bed. The Boy jumped up beside me.

"Mama," he offered, "would you like a massage?"

I'm delirious, I thought. But what the heck. And what do you know? The kid's a natural! He's a little back-rubbing machine! We struck a deal: I pay him a dollar/week for a daily 5-minute massage. Yes, it's slave wages, but come on people, why else did I go through labor? I said, "Now all we need is for your sister to start doing hair, and you kids have paid your dues as far as Mommy's concerned!" And the Boy said, with a slight roll of the eyes, "Mom. I can do your hair, too."

Even Darth Vader loved his mommy, folks.