Posted by: Hannah | 10/19/2012

and that’s the tooth

Last night, G’s bedtime. Michael was out so it was me and the boys. Lately Harry & Ron have taken to sharing the bathtub again; for the longest time Harry eschewed baths at all in favour of the shower, as being a more grown-up option, but suddenly that’s off the table and the two of them cram themselves into my smallish tub whenever I allow it.

(I don’t usually. The amount of water that ends up all over the bathroom floor after one of these riotous playdates is not holy. On the other hand, wiping it up afterwards is kind of like washing the floor, right? RIGHT? DON’T YOU JUDGE ME IT HAS SOAP IN IT.)

Anyway, the two older boys were in the tub and I was in G’s room, nursing quietly in the dark while rocking him before bed. (He’s slowly starting to wean himself; he only nurses every four to five hours now, and even then it’s mostly for comfort, I think. While I won’t mourn saying goodbye to my tattered, horrible nursing bra for the last time, I will miss the dreamy snuggly feedings.)

G’s eyes were drifting closed and I was even dozing a little myself when I was jerked awake by Harry screaming.

Harry, panicked: “MY TOOTH MY TOOTH OH MY GOD RON YOU PULLED OUT MY TOOTH!!!!!!!”

Ron, slightly worried: “Is that a good thing?”

I just sat quietly for a minute. Harry’s entire mouth is a mess of loose teeth, missing teeth, giant adult teeth and tiny baby teeth, all mushed in together. I figured one of the loose ones had been a casualty of whatever idiotic game they were playing, and that if things were really serious they’d come and get me.

Aside: The rule for ‘running to get mummy’ in this house is as follows: Is anyone bleeding? Are limbs broken? If the answer is “NO”, please wait quietly until help is available. Especially true if mummy is, say, sitting on the toilet or on the telephone for five minutes.

What I didn’t remember was Harry’s drama-llama tendencies.

I honestly thought Michael and I invented the term ‘drama-llama’. The internet says “NO”.

 

Harry’s ranting continued, ramping up and up and UP because hey! the tooth was clearly missing (“JUST LOOK AT THE HOLE IN MY MOUTH, RON!!!”) but they couldn’t find it. Much screaming ensued about it having gone down the drain, or fallen into the toilet (??), or been eaten by the dog (???)

“HOW WILL I GET MY TOOTH FAIRY MONEY IF I CAN’T FIND THAT TOOTH???!?!?!?!?”

Which is just weird. Because a) Harry no longer believes in the Tooth Fairy and b) the Tooth Fairy only brings a dollar per tooth, whereas his weekly allowance for keeping his room clean is $7. All that upset for $1? Bizarre.

I finished putting Baby G to bed and ventured into the bathroom. The tooth, as discussed, was nowhere to be found. Apparently Ron had been whipping a wet washcloth past Harry’s face while Harry, pretending to be an animal of some description, snapped at it with his teeth. Ron then yanked the cloth out as hard as he could and the tooth came with it.

It is a mark of how experienced a mom I am these days that I just blinked gently at that story and didn’t respond with something like “Why?” or “What the actual fuck, you guys?” or “You have a roomful of toys WHY DO  YOU NEED TO PLAY CHASE-THE-RAG WITH YOUR OWN FACE?” Instead, I thought “huh, that sounds easier than trying to grab a loose tooth with Kleenex to pull it out” and actually contemplated – briefly – trying the same stunt on purpose to yank out another especially stubborn one on the other side.

I got them into pajamas and tucked Ron into bed. Then I went looking for the tooth. I… didn’t find it. And our drain is one of those twist-in ones so it couldn’t have gone down the plug-hole. Which means – shudder – that the tooth is still in my bathroom somewhere. And I hate teeth. A lot. As far as my kids are aware, it is Standard Operating Procedure to leave teeth under the pillow in a plastic sandwich baggie – because then I don’t have to touch them. Every time I go to the bathroom now my eyes dart around the room, frantically trying to locate the stray tooth before, say, the baby does. *gag*

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Responses

  1. Bet he swallowed it 😉

    • @Linda – Apparently he *didn’t* swallow it, they both said they actually saw the tooth fly through the air, but being small boys they didn’t, you know, watch the trajectory to see where it landed. UGH.

  2. Chase-the-rag sounds like a fantastic game. Almost as good as my boys’ game of whipping each other with their socks.

  3. You know…Viv is going to be “slightly unhinged tooth fairy” for halloween…perhaps I’ll send her over to find the tooth? :p

  4. I can’t tell you how much I laughed reading this. Thanks for the smile, I needed it what with all the drama llama stuff going on on my blog right now!

  5. It’s a measure of how experienced you are as a mom that you didn’t curtail baby G’s feed to go find out “What the hell, you guys??”

    Playing “CHASE-THE-RAG WITH YOUR OWN FACE???” made me laugh out loud.

  6. This post is hilarious and also oh-so-comforting as I have these boys as well. Chase the rag indeed.
    Earlier this summer, my 6 year old was biting his 4 year old brother’s t-shirt at the playground (you know. as you do) and his loose tooth went flying out of his mouth across the sidewalk. As I was watching, I DID see the trajectory of the tooth and retrieved it. I think the best part was watching 6’s friend’s face … little friend hasn’t lost any teeth yet and he was absolutely blown away that it could even happen like that. We saw him eyeing his little sister’s t-shirt and put an end to that fantasy immediately.

  7. […] bathtub incident of earlier in the week did not signal an end to loose teeth – no, that tooth’s opposite number has been […]


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