On Friday J.T. spent the night with Ma Ma and Pa Pa (Rob's parents) and his wiggly, wobbly, hanging-by-a-thread tooth fell out. He lost it. Rob's mother wrote a note for the tooth fairy explaining the situation and asking that she be very, very generous. Then she vacuumed with her Rainbow, strained the contents of the water bowl and located the lost tooth. She is more dedicated than I to the cause of the lost tooth. I told him the tooth fairy would know where to find a lost tooth even if we didn't have it. Is it me or is parenting about 75 percent lying? She was indeed generous and left the boy $5 (beats the 25 cents I always got).
Last night Abby said: "If I have to tell you one more time...." I said: "What? What happens if you tell us one more time?" Abby: "Don't say that bad word." Me: "What bad word?" Abby: "Happen."
And then she gets into our bed, settles between us and says: "You're sqooshing me!" Wouldn't that be a good reason to get in your bed darling? Of course not! And I end up with a face full of 3 year old foot by the time she does doze off.
A few days before, she was walking, er, tottering down the hall, pants around her ankles yelling: "I can't take it anymore. I just. can't. take it anymore!"
1 year ago