My daughter has a couple of loose teeth. I simply can not help in this area. It’s not that I have a phobia of teeth, like I do with spiders, but wiggly teeth creep me out and I lose all functionality.
About a year and a half ago, when August was on the T-Ball team, one game he was fixated on his loose tooth. He stood in the outfield, grabbing at his tooth, wiggling it back and forth in an attempt to get it out. I couldn’t do my parental duties and go out there to tell him to stop and pay attention. I actually asked one of the other parents to do that for me. I knew if I went out there I’d get creeped out and be incapacitated.
So I’m snuggling in bed with Déla just before saying good night to her. She’s talking about one of her loose teeth, and what they will do on Monday in class if it comes out before then. She is adamant about not wanting to pull it out tomorrow, but is afraid that it will come out in the middle of the night and she will lose it in her bed.
Now I just have to remember a dollar before I go to bed tonight.