The dramatics are becoming less and less with each tooth that comes out.
This is #4.
It was extremly loose when we sent her to school on Monday.
Larry picked her from school while I was at a doctor's appointment
and somehow it got bumped out.
She turned to Larry with tooth in hand and said,
"Here, Daddy. My tooth came out."
That's it.
No crying.
No hysterics.
I'm guessing she's used to the idea by now.
And I am, too.
Until then...