Last night, driving home in the whipping! driving! dangerous! they're going to evacuate your town! pouring rain, stressing about what I'd left behind undone in the office (because it wasn't ready for me to start doing when I left) I decided we needed Chinese food for dinner.
When I got home with the Chinese food, I served up the kids. I'd gotten chicken noodle soup for Geoff, because I knew he couldn't really bite anything else. He has been working on a loose tooth. He's eight and has only lost four teeth to date, something which I think is kind of an oddity. But with Geoff -- we come to understand these oddities are part of who he is.
A fifth (top, front, left) became loose yesterday, and he'd worked into near detachment but couldn't get past the last ... little... you know. Bit.
So he asked me to pull it. ugh. It's not the first time my son has turned to me in this need, longtime readers of the journal will know. He tried, really hard. He's pulled out other teeth on his own. But this time -- oh man.
Cringe now. You know you want to.
He brought me a piece of toilet paper and I wrapped it around this tiny, itty-bitty little tooth. Seriously, the damn thing is microscopic, almost. And I got a good grip, looked him in the eye and asked him if he was sure...
because I sure as hell wasn't.
He nodded. I pulled. He cringed and I heard a pip noise... I stopped because I felt woozy. I asked if he was okay and he gestured thumbs-up and waved his hand for me to go again.
And instead of a pip, it was a pop!
His head reeled back -- and I held this tiny tooth, with no blood, no nothing anywhere. Not like other teeth in the past.
He was pretty psyched, had a huge bowl of ice cream. Went to bed with the tooth beneath his pillow.
I set to work on floorplans for work. Doug was asleep on the couch at about 7:30 so I spent a few hours cranking out floorplans and emailing Amy back and forth before I went in at 10, watched the headlines and fell promptly asleep.
At 6:15, I could hear Geoff talking to Jessica in the livingroom. And I sat bolt upright.
I'd forgotten to do the tooth fairy duties. Crap! Earlier this year, you may recall that I forgot to do Easter Bunny duties and found myself at CVS at 10pm shopping with other absent minded parents and stoned college aged girls for chocolate.
I snuck into his room, which is no easy feat because the damn thing is a nightmarish mess, and popped the tooth out of its little holder and hid the dollar inside his gameboy case, which he keeps under his pillow (along with his glasses). I went to the bathroom, started the coffee, took the dogs out.
"Oh, hey Geoffman. Did the tooth fairy come last night?" I asked as I made his breakfast.
A very sad an dejected no came from his sad little one-missing tooth face. I asked him if he was sure. So he double checked and to his amazement found the tooth missing but couldn't find the dollar. Geoff doesn't think beyond the obvious, and didn't think to look inside the case. So he was on the edge of freaking out when I suggested he look there.
Seeing as he's only lost 5 teeth in his young life, and is old enough to know about the tooth fairy, I'm sitting on the fence as to whether or not he needs to know. He hasn't reaped enough of the benefits (ie: dollars) for losing his teeth yet... but he's ready to know the truth. Especially because I can't remember to take care of these things at 11pm before I go to bed. It'd be much nicer to just hand him a dollar and say "congrats on ripping that thing out, dude!"
I'm posting a poll over at Universal Hub to see what other parents give... I'm kind of curious. He is never disappointed that he only gets a dollar, but our neighbor girl E told Geoff a few weeks ago that she gets five. I think he's totally forgotten, which is good. But man. A finn is a lot of money for something I need a microscope to see.
Anyway -- time to shower and ready myself to face the day.