Bad Mom

A while ago I read a little book called, "The Kid Turned Out Fine", a collection of short essays written by mommies who had done something or another that could/should have been the end of their child, physically or emotionally, but wasn't. It's a fun way to pass an hour and be reassured that you're not the world's worst parent. (Oh, and if you borrowed this book, I forgot who you are--could you please return it when you're finished? Thanks!)

Anywho, I could make it into that book tonight. This morning Wilson found one of his baby teeth loose after using it to pry apart two legos that were stuck together. (Which, of course, prompted a little lecture from me about not using your teeth as tools, etc, but he was so happy that his tooth was loose my wisdom was lost on him.) Tonight he showed it to me again and it was practically jumping out on it's own--turning circles and whatnot. I told him to get a napkin and I would pull that baby out--I consider myself a pretty good tooth puller. He was worried about the pain involved but after I spent a good fifteen minutes promising him that it absolutely would not hurt he PUT ALL HIS SEVEN YEAR-OLD TRUST IN ME and agreed. I pinched the tooth in the napkin and pulled as quickly and perfectly as I could. Turns out, it was still quite attached somehow, and it didn't come out. Blood gushed, though, and my son shrieked a high note that filled the whole house. I felt AWFUL. He cried and bled and cried and bled. Ugh. I did let him sleep on the couch (a real treat in our house) out of guilt, but will he ever trust me again??