On Thanksgiving morning our little one woke up and declared she had a lose tooth. Asking me to check, I meticulously went through each tiny one and all seemed firmly in place. At her insistence I checked again and, upon closer inspection, I thought that maybe one of her bottom middle teeth might be the most infinitesimal bit loose. Squealing with glee, she skipped off to check in the mirror. She began wiggling it and I encouraged to her to keep it up during the day. A little after noon she came up to me and asked me to test it. Sure enough, her tiny tooth was indeed moving back and forth! I asked her if I could try and move it and reluctantly she said yes. I got one good, hard yank in … pulling it down toward the ground. “OW!” my little one screamed, but I noticed her tiny tooth was surrounded by blood. After admonishing me not to touch it, I had to endure it protruding out like a jack-o-lantern’s the rest of the day. Finally, after our meal, I pleaded with her to let me try and move it again. Following the same thing I did earlier, I got in one good downward pull before I saw her looking at me with complete and utter shock; her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. Looking back at her, I was stunned to see the hole that was now in her still open mouth. “DON’T SWALLOW YOUR TOOTH!” I hollered. She recovered enough to say indignantly that she did not. I could still remember being so proud when she got that first tiny little tooth and now I held it in the palm of my hand. It was another one of motherhood’s bittersweet moments. HER FIRST BABY TOOTH! And it came out on Thanksgiving night! I could not believe it! Suddenly grinning, my little one shrieked with the unbridled glee and innocence of youth and ran to look in the mirror. She came back looking somehow older, with a tissue delicately swabbing at the blood, saying, “Mama I cannot believe I lost my first ‘toof!'” “You sure did,” I said, my heart breaking just a little. “I have something for you,” I said, going off into another room. A couple of weeks earlier I discovered they had “tooth fairy pillows” in our church bookstore and I just a feeling. I knew at some point she’d need it anyway. “For ME?!” she squealed in delight, clutching the tiny pink pillow. “No,” I said, “that is for the Tooth Fairy!” looking very serious. “See? It has a felt pocket shaped like a tooth.” “And that’s where I’ll put it for her!” she exclaimed with glittering eyes. The hardest part was getting up in the middle of the night to gently remove the tiny tooth from her tooth fairy pillow without her waking up. The tooth fairy paid her a dollar! When I was a kid it was a quarter. The next day, as a family, we all proudly went down to the Dollar store where she made her first ever Black Friday purchase. Her Daddy kicked in the eight cents (which she did not know about) for sales tax. The American Major League Baseball manager of the championship New York Yankees, Casey Stengel, once said, “The trick is growing up without growing old.” Both of my folks always maintained a youthful spirit; I believe Burk and I are the same way. He and I still need childhood magic, but we do not need any more visits from the tooth fairy!