Your second loose tooth is hanging on by a thread, but you won’t let us get a thread in there to yank it out.
I thought after you got over the anxiety of losing your first tooth you’d be a champ for a next one, but apprently you know too much now and aren’t eager to get a visit from the Tooth Fairy soon.
This baby-bottom-front-tooth has been loose for weeks, super wiggly for days and is now just plain disgusting to look at. We’ve been disinfecting because the gums around it are eroding. Gag. Your Mom got in there with toilet paper for a pull attempt yesterday and we were suprised it didn’t pop out.
In other news, your tone has been popping off a bit. You’ve regressed to some baby-like noises to express whiny discontent when you’re displeased with a dinner choice or a lack of TV show on the evening agenda. God created kids with a screechy pitch that uniquely drives their parents crazy and yours is optimally calibrated to make us rise into an instant fury.
I was reminded at your elementary school open house today that this is all for show and an audience of two parents. You were wholly extroverted, articulate and excited with your classmates and teachers. There was no ounce of the girl who kicked around the car, not wanting to pick up Matteo from his school an hour earlier. Was I supposed to leave him there?
Let’s pop a tooth out in the next day and alm the disagreement tactics. That might get the Tooth Fairy to sweeten the deal.
Love, Dad