Papa and I don't always see eye to eye. I've been waiting for signs of loose teeth for months. But for some reason, papa wasn't quite as keen. Most of my school friends have lost at least one tooth, and mine seemed to be stubbornly in place.
Not long ago, when mama and papa told me that my teeth would fall out if I didn't brush, I had a great idea to speed up the process. Since then, mama and papa decided that they wouldn't really fall out, they'd just turn black from neglect, so I dropped that plan.
But not long ago, walking back from the boulangerie, I noticed something exciting. A little less reticence in my lower front tooth, a central incisor to be precise. Indeed, some noticeable movement. Was it true? I asked papa. But instead of shouting for joy, like I did, he seemed to let out a sad little wimper and blubber something about "my little baby".
A few days later, maybe a week, mama and I were back at the boulangerie. As usual, I pester for some of the hot bread until mama finally gives in. But no dirty hands on the clean bread, I have to take a direct bite.
And that's how I lost my first tooth in the fresh baguette.
Papa and mama combed the floor. But they never found the little deciduous creature. My big worry was how the tooth fairy (la petite souris) would know to leave the cash. A drawing of my tooth ensured proper delivery.
But I still don't understand why papa looks so devastated. The tooth fairy would have taken the tooth anyway.
Check out a couple more: out with the old
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