Monday, 15 April 2013
If the tooth be known...
I never fail to be amazed at life - sometimes when you are down, it knows just how to make you smile again. And at others... well let's just say it knows when to kick you when you're down too (I don't mean that to sound as harsh as it does, but let me explain...)!
So we had finally got over the whole "going off to school/big boys" hurdle, and I was middling along nicely and managing not to stare like some frenzied loony in through the back window of the classroom every day as I was leaving, when we were sitting at the breakfast table, and Paddy says "My tooth is loose!"
It was as though my whole life flashed in front of my eyes at that time. My immediate response to him was: "No, it's not!" (Perhaps more snippily than was warranted by the statement.)
"It really is," he whined.
"It's actually not," I repeated, hoping that by saying it, it would come true.
But something in me knew. And as he opened his mouth for me to see, and that little tooth was wiggling all over the place, I was struck by the unfairness of the situation.
I had just said goodbye to my little ones at school, had to have their fifth birthday parties after celebrating their births about, what, like two weeks ago?, and now, I have to cope with them losing their small, beautiful baba teeth. Really! You have got to be kidding me!
And like any good mother should, I rose to the occasion. I dissolved into tears. I freaked out and scared my child. And I responded in such a mature way:
"Don't you dare wiggle that tooth! Ever!"
Okay, so that lasted about two seconds.
(Just for the record, I have made it up to him. I told him about how it is all a natural process of growing up; I have shown him the new, very visible and absolutely huge tooth sticking out the back; I have shown him the identical one sticking up out of Sam's gums; and all is fine again. For them. Not me...)