Guess who lost a tooth?

Literally.  It fell out and he lost it.  He's not sure where.  Possibly, he says, it got flushed down the toilet.  He doesn't think he swallowed it, but says it's possible.  I looked around for a while, in his room, in the bathroom.  No sign of the tooth.   Needless to say, the toothfairy has got to be a little confused when it comes to our little household.  We can manage to get mangled fingernails under the pillow for pick up & exchange, but teeth?  That's just a little to difficult for us folks here in Brickey-land.

Elise was moving in for closer inspection when I took this picture.  Sadly, this is the best of the three I snapped.  Three is pretty much my limit for situations like this.  It's actually hard to tell he even lost a tooth, but I promise he did.  He's really proud to finally be able to add his name to the tooth-losing-chart at school.  It fell out when he was upstairs, and he was so cute.  He came downstairs, walked up to me and said,"Mom, I have something important to tell you.  I actually lost my tooth.  Yeah.  I did." 

And thus we plow forward toward that time that is "the-awkward-teeth-years", also known as "the-time-of-disproportionate-body-parts."  So glad.