A Mystery and Big Guns
Last night, as I was crawling into bed, I threw back the covers, sat down, and felt something hard and sharp under my hand.
It was a tooth.
Maybe it’s from Sophie-the-Coon-Cat?
Nope. It’s a human tooth.
A teeny-tiny baby tooth, looks to be like one of the lower incisors. A bit of the root still sharp and ragged.
What the heck is it doing in my bed?!
Let me remind you that my boys are nearly 5 and nearly 9. The five year old still had all his teeth, last I checked when tucking him in to bed. The 9 year old lost all the front ones a long time ago. The most recent one I disposed of promptly, lest I get caught glitter-handed and guilty after making the midnight drop.
I am flummoxed. I cannot fathom how this baby tooth – someone’s baby tooth – appeared magically in my bed when it wasn’t there yesterday. Or even this morning.
Maybe the tooth fairy got lost. Maybe she doesn’t need as many as she thought, so she’s returning them now?
I am baffled.
One a side note – Scrappy appears to be cutting a molar. We were looking at it last night and Gabe asked him: “Show me your gums. Do your gums hurt?”
Scooby runs in, as if on cue, flexing his wirey arms. “Did someobody say guns?! I’ve got guns for you!”
There is too much testosterone in my house. The end.