Well, K recently lost his third tooth. The first one was a couple years ago. A molar. He had a bad cavity on it and so it was filled. Soon after, it got infected. We ended up in the E.R. at PrimaryChildren's because that side of his face was completely swollen. Because the bone between the brain and the eye is paper thin, the doctors (he saw 3) were worried about this infection moving up. It was progressing quickly. So treatments went from having oral antibiotics, to upping the strenghth of the antibiotics, to putting it through an I.V. and finally removing the nasty tooth altogether. Which by the way, was thrown out. Yucky.
His second tooth, a bottom front, was loose for a while. He was so excited since he was one of the last kids in his class to lose a tooth. He asked if he could hold on to it for a year before giving it to the tooth fairy. Ok, whatever. So there we are at dinner eating pizza, when K looks up and gasps. "I swallowed my tooth! Baaaaaaaaaaaaah." Meaning he started bawling. He was so sad but luckily I had told him of my similar experience earlier that week so we laughed about it later. He wrote a letter to the tooth fairy explaining what happened and was so excited to find the note gone the next day along with some money.
His third tooth, he worked it out because he didn't want to accidentally swallow it. However, after handling it for so many days, he finally lost it in the couch. Although I thought about extracting his second tooth from you know what (but only for a second) I thought more about looking through the couch to find the third. We didn't find it but we did find years and years of nastiness. I made it a spouse project to clean that out because it needed manly strength and manly tools, and stuff like that. yeah.