I Lost A Toof

I don't mind blood. My blood, that is. It's kind of fascinating, really.

But Scott's blood? Nope. Can't handle it. I have to throw him a towel from across the room or send the kids to get him Band-aids.

I really, really can't handle the girls' blood. I can handle vomit, but not blood. Thank goodness I can run to the next door neighbor's house and let her bandage up my kids.

Thank goodness that Band-aids fix anything. They make mosquito bites better, make mini scratches better, they make any owie better. Fascinating. We keep several boxes in the bathroom. Hey, a girl has to have options!

Back to the blood. I can't handle loose teeth, either. The girls like to twist them and wiggle them, all while giggling at my discomfort.

The Princess, who is 5, has lost 4 of her bottom teeth and had a top tooth dangling. People ask me if she got her baby teeth early. Nope. She's just losing them early. People ask me what that means. I tell them it means she's a genius. (There is no scientific evidence to support this, but it's a great response.) And by the way, she's not a genius. Smart, yes. A negotiator, absolutely.

She ran up to me the other day, with a puddle of blood in her hand. "Look, mom! My toof came out!" I froze. I didn't even hear what she said. I was focused on the blood in her hand. I looked at her mouth. Blood.

Ohmigosh! She lost a tooth! There was a tooth in her hand, under all that blood. Wow. And sure, honey, I would LOVE to pick up that bloody tooth and wipe it off and hold it for you until we get home and you can put it under your tooth fairy pillow. *shudder*

And now The Princess looks like a hillbilly with that tooth missing! But don't worry, the other one is loose, too.