After dinner, he wiggled and wiggled. And finally, after he probably should have been in bed, Griffin pulled the tooth. There was some blood. And lots of squealing from excitement. And possibly from the sight of so much blood.
This was only his third lost tooth and the first one he had actually pulled himself. Everyone cheered. We all hugged him, careful to avoid the bloody paper towel. Then someone said, “Awww, I can’t wait for the other front tooth to come out. You will be so cute with no front teeth!”
And that was all it took. We had thrown it down. You see, for the Baby of the Family being cute is a high priority. This kid knows he’s cute. He can tilt his head and look adorable and get his older sisters to share dessert. He dances or makes funny faces and basks in the glow of his own cuteness as we laugh. Most of the things he says are funnier than the lines sitcom writers create for child actors. He is cute. And he knows it. So when presented with an opportunity to be even cuter — well, that other top tooth had to come out.
It wasn’t loose enough to come out that night. But he wiggled and twisted and pulled. For ten solid minutes. He probably hasn’t worked that hard on any task all summer long! I wouldn’t be surprised if the kid broke a sweat.
Finally, I heard the shout of victory. He ran into my room to show me. There was a lot of blood — like, we may have been able to wring it out of the paper towel. And the tooth had quite an impressive root still attached to it. Yeah, it totally wasn’t ready to come out. But the allure of being cute is quite a powerful incentive to the Baby of the Family in a family of six kids.
After the blood finally stopped, loooong after bedtime should have come and gone, Griffin was repeatedly saying “Christmas,” which -of course- sounded adorably like “Chrithmath.” Because that completely makes sense in August. But he’s heard the song. Is there a cuter word for a kid with no top front teeth to say? And the more everyone oohed and aahed about the cuteness of it, the more exaggerated the lisp became.
He’s hoping the teeth don’t come in before school pictures in the fall. Because a family friend mentioned offhandedly that a big toothless smile would be adorable in school pictures. I’m betting he makes it until then — seeing as how the teeth weren’t really ready to be pulled anyway!
In the meantime, Griffin will revel in his own cute factor. If you see us, I’m certain you’ll get a giant smile showing off the missing teeth. And you’ll probably hear plenty of lispy words with the th extremely exaggerated. And if you tell him he’s cute, I hope he’ll remember to say “Thank you,” instead of “I know” – which sometimes slips out. You know, out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.
Are your kids cute? Do they know it? Hit up the comments and tell us about it.