Last night, we were getting ready to go out for sushi in celebration of Skip completing the World Vision 30 Hour Famine, when Nate came up to me with a big grin on his face.
"Mom, I can't wait until France" he said.
Some of you might think that he was commenting on how excited he was that he would be going to France in less than a month. Some of you would think that the excitement was driving him insane.
But you would be wrong.
You see, for the last week, we've been telling Nate that if he doesn't fiddle with his wiggly tooth, he might be able to lose it in France, and wouldn't that be the coolest thing ever if he could leave a part of himself behind in France forever.
But it was not to be.
The baby tooth did NOT want to stick around in the Nate Mouth for a moment longer.
And it was ready to go. He didn't even bleed.
Which was a good thing, as the tamago and sushi rice would've tasted gross with the metallic tang of hemoglobin infusing every bite.
The owner of the restaurant came by and commented on Nate's new gap, wondering if he was going to get a visit from the Tooth Fairy.
"Oh, I don't believe in the Tooth Fairy... OR Santa Claus. But I'm still going to put my tooth under my pillow tonight, so I can get a treat."
Yes, that'd be the shrewd pragmatist we're raising.
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