Well, the first official Toothwatch is over, as of Wednesday. After much wiggling and no results, I called the dentist on Monday. (I was supposed to do that on March 1st if the tooth wasn't out yet but I kept thinking we could give it just a little more time. I'd suggested tying the tooth with a string to a door and shutting it, but Alex said that sounded violent.) The dental appointment was set, Wednesday at 2. I wasn't sure how this was going to go down because our regular cleaning visits are always a grab bag of behavior. Will he lean back in the chair? Will he allow them to actually clean his teeth? Will he clamp his teeth together and refuse to do anything? I think we were both nervous when we went in.
The hygienist spread her tools out on the tray and called the dentist in. They decided that gas was called for and put the mask on Alex. Neither of us had done that before so we were definitely in uncharted territory. They explained that Alex would start to feel floaty soon, and he thought it was pretty cool. Then they examined the tooth and gave him a shot. This was where I thought it was all going to go bad. The gas must really help because he didn't make a peep. Then there was wiggling and pulling. The hygienist prepared a little plastic tooth-shaped box for us, and the dentist handed her something from Alex's mouth. The he stopped and told Alex that we were going to wait a minute until he was ready for them to pull it. I was confused. Dr. John told Alex they would pull it when he gave the word. The hygienist was cleaning something and packing it in the box. Alex told them it was okay to go ahead. Dr. John said okay, then explained that the tooth was missing! How did that happen? They examined his mouth in the mirror, then presented him with his tooth in the box. Alex never knew when (or if) they pulled it. It was magic.
And I can't say enough about how awesome Clemson Family Dentistry is. On the way out they slipped me a Sacagewea dollar for the tooth fairy to leave. Talk about full service.
I took advantage of the sedating effect of the nitrous to have Alex's hair cut. It didn't help. He still wiggles and is so extremely ticklish that it takes twice as long as it should. (I try to tip well.) We postponed our snack until the novocaine wore off but Alex was fine with no ill effects within an hour. I'd meant to make a tooth pillow for Alex to put his tooth in for the Tooth Fairy but like so many of my craft projects time slipped away from me. It was okay though because he was perfectly happy with his little tooth box. The real problem came just before supper time.
I mentioned in passing that we could now leave the tooth for the tooth fairy to collect and maybe she would leave him something in return. The answer was a resounding NO! You see, Alex's class has been learning about teeth and counting how many in their class had lost them and kept a record of them. They'd had a dentist visit and, most importantly, they'd read a book about tooth traditions from around the world. This is a book that I have NOT read or known anything about. Then Alex started telling us something about a tooth mouse and a glass of water. Or, throwing your tooth on the roof. It took a phone call to a friend (an awesome go-to person for experienced mom information) and research on the Internet to unearth global tooth legends and the scoop on the tooth mouse. In some Spanish-speaking countries he's known as El Ratoncito Perez. Has quite a ring to it, doesn't it?
In most of the stories the tooth mouse performs the same function as the Tooth Fairy. You hide the tooth under the pillow, the mouse or fairy collects it and leaves a prize. Sometimes a coin, other money, small prize or candy. (I think the candy is really at cross-purposes for someone who's just lost a tooth.) An obscure custom that is now gaining favor, according to Wikipedia, is leaving one's tooth in a glass of water. The mouse exchanges it for a coin. (Sources on the web theorize that it's easier to sneak a glass of water away from a child's room than to retrieve a tooth from under their pillow.) At our house it was even easier for El Ratoncito. Alex had me fill the glass and put the tooth in but protested when I brought it in to his room.
"I don't want the mouse in my room. Leave it in the kitchen on the counter."
Much more sanitary, don't you agree? The tooth mouse came through, apparently not insulted that he was only allowed in the kitchen. A shiny $1 coin replaced the tooth. All is well and the new tooth is up and just needs to push into its proper place. I'm just waiting on the next tooth he loses. What will we do for it? I've gotten books from the library now - perhaps we'll throw the tooth on the roof or burn it to ashes. Who knew tooth-losing would turn into an anthropological adventure?
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