Tiny Hillbilly

Oops.  Stellar mom award, again!  So, this is what happened.  Two things actually.  Yesterday, the cable guy was over here fixing cable stuff.  Wyatt sees every breathing organism with ears as an opportunity to tell his life story.  Because the guy was trying to work, I sent Wyatt upstairs to the bonus room (which we are in the process of converting into a playroom) to restore sanity to the cable dude's ears. 

The kiddos were upstairs for a few minutes when our sweet dog who would never hurt a flea, bit the cable guy.  We were shocked and completely distraught over this incomprehensible phenomenon.  Luckily, the cable guy couldn't have been nicer about it.  He was only grateful that Kiddie was up to date on his shots.  We were floored.  It was like seeing an angel whip out an Uzi on an innocent bystander.  I wouldn't think twice about leaving him unattended in a room full of newborns - he is that sweet of a dog.  We just couldn't process it at all.  The guy left and Brent and I were standing there in bewilderment when a whimpery Wyatt came downstairs and handed Brent his front tooth.

You can imagine how badly our brains stuttered trying to shift from dog bite to suddenly being handed your son's tooth.  It was like being given a rectal exam from an large knuckled alien on another planet.  All four of us were totally vacant.  I wish we could have captured a family portrait in that moment and sent it out as our Christmas card.

When we finally pulled ourselves together, we went upstairs to reenact what had happened.  The bed in the bonus room was pulled away from the wall, so we could finish painting.  In hindsight, I should have realized that Wyatt no longer saw the bed as a bed and instead saw it as gymnastics equipment.  He had tried climbing over the back of the headboard but was unsuccessful, so when we slipped back down to the floor, his tooth got stuck in a groove of the bamboo weave, and it popped that sucker right out. 

There wasn't anything else to do at that point except hop in the car and get the boy a milkshake.  Poor thing.  You should have seen his reaction the first time he looked in the mirror.  He was horrified and started to cry but wanted to laugh too.  Our emotions were everywhere.  It was so terrifying at first, but Brent and I kept dodging in closets because we were laughing so hard at the poor kid's new look.  Definitely one for the history books.  He dictated a note to the Tooth Fairy last night too:

She left him some money and Spiderman toothpaste.  He got to keep the tooth too.  Anyway, we are headed to the dentist this afternoon to make sure everything is okay.  Unfortunately, he wasn't supposed to lose that tooth until almost 7 years old, so for the next couple of years... meet the new Wyatt!