Losing teeth is a family affair. How enthused I was when Brigham and William came running up to me:
"Mom, Mom, I knocked out Brigham's tooth with my HEAD!"
"William ran into me (sniffle, sniffle)."
"Look, Mom, I have a fat lip!" (William)
"I almost swallowed it, I didn't even know it came out!" (Brigham)
"Hey, Brig, Brig, you're gonna get another dollar...cool." (William)
The cool part was, it really wasn't a big deal. If it had been a permanent tooth, it would have been a different story! We put the tooth in a baggy, rinsed his mouth with salt water, and off we go, playing again...as if there wasn't a hollow, bloody cavity in his upper gums (don't you remember that feeling, when you'd run your tongue along your gums after losing a tooth?) These are my kind of accidents: quick clean-up, short-term pain, life's natural cycle being quickened by a brother, no stiches, staples, super glue, runs to Urgent Care, band-aids, gauze, etc., and we're all still friends (can you tell we've been around the block once or twice?). Welcome to the Carter Family!