A couple weeks ago Annabelle lost her first tooth. Actually, "lost" is a misnomer simply because she ran into my bedroom with the tooth flopping around, opened her mouth and said, "Pull it out!" So I gingerly took her tooth between my finger and thumb and it practically fell out into my hand. It was much easier than I had expected it to be.
I stood there surprised with her tooth in my hand. Annabelle looked at me with a look that said I had betrayed her. She rolled over on my bed and whispered, "Please don't talk to me."
What a horrible feeling, no matter how unintentional, to rush a child into doing something they simply are not ready to do. It goes against so much of how we have raised Annabelle, that I understood immediately that she felt violated. I promised I would never, ever pull out another tooth in all my life.
Thankfully, once she was at school the attention and congratulations helped her recover quickly. The day was saved. Nobody asked how she lost her tooth, they only smiled and laughed with her and talked about how big she was growing!
On Friday Annabelle came running out of aftercare smiling ecstatically. Blood was dripping down her lip and she thrust her hand into my face to proudly show me the tooth she had pulled from her own mouth! "It doesn't even hurt!" she exclaimed and then proudly dashed off to show someone else.
