Zoë has been working and working at her wiggly tooth lately. Her hands were constantly in her mouth, which was really skeeving everybody out, and she would come up to me about a million times a day to ask me to "check" to see if it was loose enough for Daddy to pull.
Andrew is the tooth-yanker around these parts. I'm more of a wait-until-it-falls-out-on-its-own kind of a person. Zoë may be that kind of person as well, but she wanted that tooth out and she knew she couldn't pull it herself, so she kept asking Andrew to do it. But then it would hurt because it was never "ready."
On Sunday night she came to me and I got a kleenex out so I could grip the tooth to test its "ripeness" and it popped right out in my hand. *gag!* *shudder* *gag!*
I don't recall ever pulling anyone else's tooth out before (as I mentioned, I am more of a wait-until-it-falls-out-on-its-own kind of a person) and it was not pleasant.
Zoë was happy, though.
Andrew was confused, exclaiming, "You cut your own umbilical cord but pulling a tooth is too much ick for you?!"
Yeah. For some reason...yeah.
With great dedication, Zoë put the tooth on her little nightstand, ready for the tooth fairy to find it.
Anyway, teeth. The most high maintenance bones in existence!