I remember the first tooth you lost. It was Granollers Day, annual fair of the nearest big town. C’était un jour de fête was playing in my head. Too much beer and revelry and sure, I lost a piece of myself that day.
Why do we cling on to childhood? I remember the first tooth I lost: it marked a watershed. My parents had been fighting. I lost a piece of myself that day also. The life of pain intercedes between the life of milk and naps and rainbows.
We think we want our children to stay young forever, but really we don’t. We just want the magic of childhood to stay. The anticipation of a sacred gift delivered whilst sleeping:
Under the pillow
waiting for fairy or mouse*
moon-white of milk tooth
My eldest son lost a tooth yesterday after a one-year gap (pun intended).
*In Britain, the tooth fairy leaves a coin under the pillow in return for a milk tooth. In continental Europe, this job falls to the ‘tooth mouse.’ I’d be interested to learn what traditions there are in other parts of the world!