My phone was ringing as I walked into my office Wednesday morning. The screaming on the other end began before I could get half a 'hello' out.
Henry: I LOST A TOOOOOOOTH!
I hurrayed. I whooped. I yayed. I was awfully glad to be the only person in the office.
Erin phoned several times with updates from Henry's big day. At one point, he jumped up and down, exclaiming, "I love all the attention." Later, at a more ponderous moment, he sat on the couch, exploring the hole in his mouth with his tongue.
"I feel so free."
By the time I arrived home, he had the tooth in a film canister (marked "Henry's Tooth"), ready for placement under his pillow.
He had an awfully hard time falling asleep. It took much longer than usual. He was nervous about whether the Tooth Fairy would come or not.
Me: She's coming.
Henry: Are you sure?
Me: She's coming!
Henry: How do you know?
He finally fell asleep. 20 minutes later, however, he woke himself up. He was quite upset.
Henry: Why does she need to take it?
Erin: That's just how it works.
Henry: But... it was part of me.
And suddenly, our five-year-old son is having mortality issues.
We calmed him down, gave him lots of hugs. We wrote a note to the Tooth Fairy politely asking her to please make and exception this time and leave the tooth (and the money). He went back to bed.
And was back 20 minutes later.
Henry: What if she doesn't see the note?
We found a hiding place for the tooth that even the craftiest Tooth Fairy could never find. This managed to put his mind at ease. He did wake up a few more times before morning, but finding the 2-dollar coin under his pillow made everything better.