"Look, momma! I can turn my tooth all the way backwards!" Alexis cried out from the back seat, enthusiasm dripping from her every syllable.
Three things:
1. I told you there was nothing holding that tooth in place.
2. Thank ye gods of puke prevention that the kid was strapped securely into a car seat and couldn't shove that disgusting stub of a flappy tooth in my face.
3. My military father would be impressed with the number of swear words that flew through my mind. More impressive, however, is the fact that none of them passed through my lips. I DESERVE A COOKIE, PEOPLE.
"Just...leave your tooth alone, Alexis," I stammered.
That tooth was held in place by nothing more than will power. Alexis had discovered that it gave her magical super powers and she was in no hurry to relinquish them. More than once she had cried out, "Look, momma!" and then violently wiggled that horror show of a tooth in my face, falling over laughing in anticipation of my response.
My response was always the same. "Revolted" is probably the best word for it. My convulsions and disgust always served to make Alexis laugh harder.
The child enjoys my misery.
If I were smart, I would have turned around in the car and yanked that backwards tooth out of her face. The very thought of doing it was enough to make me gag, though. There was no way that I could even get close to the flappy thing.
And so it wasn't until the next morning that the flappy tooth was finally set free.
I was jolted to consciousness at Way Too Early o'Clock when Alexis burst through our bedroom door squealing with delight. "Looooook! My tooth fell out! Looooooook!" she continued to chirp as she shoved that disgusting lump of grossness in my face. Blood dripped from her mouth . . . OK, not really. But I imagined that blood dripped from her mouth. Did I mention that it was Way Too Early o'Clock?
"I DON'T NEED TO SEE IT!" I cried out as I tried to escape the horror show. "Just . . . go . . . do something. Go watch The Disney Channel or something," I practically begged.
The always chipper six-year old grinned from ear-to-ear as she turned on her heel and headed downstairs.
She returned a few minutes later with a tiny little food container cradled carefully in her hands. "Look, momma! I got my tooth ready for the Tooth Fairy!"
Even *I* can admit that is sort of cute. You know, if you ignore the creeptastic little tooth sitting next to the note.
And if you ingore the gaping hole in her smile.
How many more times do I have to survive this?
Wait.
Don't answer that.
I'm just going to pretend it's a one-time thing.