Since I last posted about them, E. has lost both of his top front teeth.
His smile has changed irrevocably, as I knew it would, but it is still adorable.
And I’ve found one of my limits as a parent.
It turns out I can handle vomit, poop, wee, blood, bumps and bruises and fevers, but I cannot pull out a tooth when asked.
I’m not sure if it’s the thought of physically pulling the tooth out, or the fear that I would fail to pull it out and hurt E., or what, but even the idea of it makes me feel like someone’s running their nails down a chalkboard.
Luckily Q. isn’t remotely squeamish about such things. He pulled out the first one a couple of weeks ago at E’s request and pulled out the other one last night at dinner when it was flapping back and forth as E was trying to eat a hamburger.
Q. was quick and professional.
E. was brave.
And I tried not to shriek EEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW!
Do you have a surprising limit (as a parent or elsewhere in your life)? If so, do you have a partner, other relative, or friend who can step in when needed?
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