Monday, November 19, 2012

All I Want for Thanksgiving...

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Amidst all the madness last week, I noticed that one of Owen's teeth appeared to be askew. When I asked him about it, it became clear that: 1) the tooth was indeed loose; 2) he was not happy about this; 3) Owen neither believes in the tooth fairy nor does he want her coming any where near his teeth; and 4) Owen wants to keep all his baby teeth, and requested a means to tighten the errant dendrite.

I briefed Allen on Owen's status, and we decided to not to intervene and let nature took its course (which was a big concession from the man who, along with his father and a door, assisted in the removal of his baby sister's teeth). Allen wisely packed the tooth box that Mom Mom had made for him, which was put to good use when Owen pulled his tooth out himself on Sunday morning, and thereafter since Owen refused to trade his tooth for a dollar (or a penny as per Allen's scheme to teach him about exponential growth by offering him $.01*2(t-1) for each tooth).

Fortunately, Grandma Z decided that the mere act of pulling out his tooth deserved some sort of reward, and so Owen came out of the whole experience with a gap in his smile, a tooth in his box and $2 in his backpack.

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