Ready for Hockey

After waiting for six years and a couple of months, my son finally lost his first tooth!

I noticed that he kept touching his teeth last week and asked him if something was loose. He was wiggling one of his bottom, front teeth.

"Go show Daddy!" I encouraged him.

He ran to my husband all proud of himself. "Do you want me to pull it out?" my husband asked him. "I bet I can get it out right now."

"No!" he exclaimed and ran back to me.

Do all men say those kinds of things to their kids, or is it only mine?

After that, the questions started. "What if my tooth never comes out?" "What if my adult tooth doesn't grow in?" "What if Daddy really rips it out with a pair of pliers?"

I reassured him that it would all be fine and I reminded him that he might stand to gain some cash. Suddenly he was all about getting that tooth out.

Near the end of his soccer game on Saturday he was making his way to the sidelines when he stopped and started rooting around in the grass on the field.

"What are you doing?" I called.

He picked something up off the ground, raised his hand in triumph and yelled, "I lost my tooth!"

It's one of those parenting moments that can go either way. He could either celebrate or he could notice the blood and start to cry. So we yelled out, "Woo hoo!" and raised our hands in triumph too.

He handed the tooth to my husband, sat with his teammates and immediately immersed himself in the game. What's a lost tooth when there is a game to be played?

Now he's telling everyone that he lost his tooth in his soccer game. It makes him sound kind of tough.

I think he's ready to play hockey.