I had no idea that it was even loose. Apparently, neither did he. The good thing about letting a tooth fall out on its own? No blood, no drama. Just a teeny, tiny baby tooth that no longer lives in my Monkey’s mouth.
This makes me sad. It’s bad enough that he’s 6 years old and about to finish Kindergarten. Now he’s going to have huge big boy teeth too. (The Freeman/Bentley genes seem to produce very big teeth.)
So I prepared myself for the Tooth Fairy to visit.
“No,” the Monkey informed me. “I want to take my tooth to school to show my teacher. Tell her that she can come next Tuesday.”
“Well, don’t you think we better write her a note so she will know?” I asked him.
Dear Tooth Fairy, Please don’t take my tooth until next Tuesday. Thank you. Love, Monkey
“Can I tell her to leave 25 bucks?”
“Uh, no. You can’t ask her for specific amounts. Besides, how much money do you think the Tooth Fairy has?”
Apparently in the Monkey’s world, the Tooth Fairy is the richest lady in town.