Lake lost another tooth yesterday. Literally. While we were at Tate's ball game, Lake kept wiggling is tooth - to the point it started to bleed. John Henry told him to wait until we got home to pull it. Of course when we got in the van he still couldn't leave it alone. He pulled it and there was more blood. Tate, trying to be the kind brother, offered to hold the tooth while Lake dealt with the blood. (Oh, I forgot to mention that it was dark outside and by now we were driving down the road.)
Anyway, the tooth got dropped in the dark van.
After much panic and searching...
still no tooth could be found.
We stopped for dinner and then John Henry looked some more.
Still no tooth could be found.
So, we came home and told Lake that we would look more when the sun was out.
While I was in the house getting everyone ready for bed, John Henry went back out with the flashlight.
And found the tooth.
Now all is well again.
Well, except that Lake gives me a better perspective of the phrase 'snaggle tooth.'
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