Perhaps fitting for a child of mine, Amanda is already a cynic at the ripe old age of seven. She knows that there is no Santa Claus and before I could initiate her on the improbability of urban legends, the tooth fairy. Notwithstanding, she has made the correlation between losing teeth and getting something – anything really – from Kmart.
This all came about after she’d swallowed her first wobbly tooth at school. With no “evidence” of such a loss, I told her I was unable to reward her for her supposed bravery. Determined to weasel another doll or cheap made in China squidgy bob out of me, she said, “You can pull out my other wobbly tooth, if I can have a reward from Kmart.”
“Fine. Go see your father,” said I. “He’s our family doctor, dentist, all-in-one.” The bottom-line is if it involves blood, it’s his business.
She went to him and because we were spending a weekend at the Uluramaya Retreat Cabins in Wamuran at the time, where there were no pliers or string to work with, he grabbed a small washcloth from the bathroom to do the extraction. He gave a tug and I heard her yelp. Then true to form, she emerged next to me, with her bloody baby tooth in hand to remind me of the reward.