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“How’s that wiggly tooth doing?” I questioned my daughter this morning.

She’s had a wiggly tooth that we’ve been talking about for two months now.  She refuses to help it along any.  That includes holding on to it and jiggling it at all with her fingers.

She gave me the thumbs up sign. 

“Maybe you’ll fall off the playground equipment today and smack the thing right out of your head,” I said out loud.

“Mooom,” she whined.  “I don’t HAVE playground today.  We’re on the basketball court today!”  They switched between the two every other day.

“Ooh, perfect!  Cement will knock that thing out of there nicely!”

“As soon as I get there, I’m going right over to the grassy area,” she informed me. 

“Grass?  Grass won’t knock your tooth out!”

“I kno-EXACTLY!” she yelled.

After getting dressed ten minutes later, she emerged from her room wearing flip flops.  “Flip flops!  Those will help you trip!” 

“I will NOT be playing anything that involves running!”

I’m sending my kid to therapy one loose tooth at a time.  We’re saving up now.

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