This week has been full of interesting events. In our ward, I have been called to be the "oh my goodness, we need a pianist." So, I get one of the frantic phone calls and go about taking the kids to babysitters and preparing to play for a baptism. As I hurriedly unbuckled the baby, after unbuckling and herding all the children, the car started inexplicably moving backward. Upon quick examination, Liam had snuck into the front seat of the van and put the car into reverse. The next few moments are fairly blurred between blinding pain in my shoulder, sprinting down the (luckily) vacant street, and the Mormon-derived obscenities I was shouting at our son. But, the event resulted in a swift spank on the behind and an impromptu math lesson. "How old are you?" "Two" "You need to be 16 to drive a car, so you have another 14 years before I will let you near the car again."
The other day, I was approached by Cedrich. "Mommy something feels funny in my mouth." Upon closer examination, he had a tooth that had come in behind the first one. I panicked slightly, imagining something from The Big Book of British Smiles (to quote The Simpsons). So, I made a quick call to the dentist only to find that the extraction would only heighten our already hefty bill.
So, Cedrich quietly began the task of wiggling his immoveable baby tooth. By 3 p.m. he had the tooth dangling precariously in his mouth and ready to be pulled. After a dozen or so failed attempts from Mom, he politely said, "I think I will have Dad try." When Dad came home, he gave it one swift yank. The tooth clattered somewhere into the obscurity of our basement never to be seen again. But, the impressed tooth-fairy buckled to inflation and gave him $1.50 for his brave efforts.
Upon sorting through my pictures on the digital camera, he apparently felt justified in recording the triumphant loss of his first tooth.
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