Last week, Daniel finally reached this milestone:
I took him to the dentist for a routine cleaning and check-up, which was months overdue; there was one scheduled for April that I forgot about and I didn't get around to rescheduling until now. As if taking your kid to the dentist five months late wasn't bad enough, the hygienist informed me that he is doing a terrible job brushing his teeth and we really ought to be supervising him more closely and helping him brush. Stellar parenting there, huh? Yikes. At least there were no cavities.
"And that loose tooth is barely hanging on," she added as an afterthought before turning to go back for her next appointment. Loose tooth? What loose tooth? He'd never noticed it before that appointment, and an hour later it came out in a bowl of yogurt.
The tooth fairy did visit that night and left a congratulatory note and two dollar bills, quite a generous sum. She was perhaps so excited to share in Daniel's enthusiasm over finally losing a tooth that she did not consider how many are left and that by Christmas she may very well be broke.