Big E turns seven in November.
While many of his friends have jacked up, adorable, toothless grins, my kid hasn't arrived there yet. Part of me wishes it would never happen. You see, I have this thing with blood.
Poop, vomit, even urine, doesn't affect me. But blood. Blood is my kryptonite. I fainted into a wall at a movie theatre the first time I got my period. Gave myself a really good shiner. Clearly, I would have made a horrendous doctor.
And I know for a fact a tooth doesn't just gently fall out. There's the empty tooth pocket that fills up with blood. It makes my stomach turn.
So tonight Big E said the words I've been fearing.
MOM, THIS THING IS COMING OUT!
The tooth is leaning on its neighbor. I could barely take this picture without vomiting in my mouth.
My dad wanted to investigate, naturally. Dr. Poppy decided the best thing to do was to yank it out.
AW, HELLZ NO!
I put an end to this nonsense. This tooth will fall out naturally, even if it is hanging by a thread for weeks. There will be no slamming the door shut with a string attached to this poor, innocent tooth.
I'm fine with Big E rocking this look until he leaves for college. As long as I don't have to be the one to remove it from his mouth or sop up any sort of blood.
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