Just when I thought he couldn't get any cuter, Jude started losing his teeth.
There are three gone so far, with more wiggly ones waiting to come out. I could say it's bittersweet when I think back on that long-ago January around a friend's kitchen table, when he was gumming away on my thumb and I felt that first sharp tooth in his baby-gums.
But it's mostly sweet. The hesitating and probing and wiggling. My sneaky attempts at getting him to bite an apple. My memories of lying in bed through those tooth-losing years, wiggling and wiggling while I read my way through Nancy Drew until my mouth was full of adult teeth.
The surprise on his face when the more-than-ready teeth pull out with little pain.
The tooth fairy who, like a ninja, creeps into the room of three sleeping children, across creaking floorboards, to exchange the tooth for a toonie.
She also leaves teeny-tiny notes, which are what he really loves, and takes to school to show his friends. It's not really about the money. In fact, after the latest tooth came out, it was placed on the kitchen table then shaken off with the crumbs. He hasn't even mentioned the money. But I think tonight, the tooth fairy will pay another visit.