Tooth Booth

craftgawker tooth

Photo: Craftgawker.com

 

“I have a cavity in my mouth!” she announced, elated.

“You do?” I couldn’t suppress a smile. The contrast between the child’s delight and the mom’s anguish was too funny.

“Yeah,” the girl expounded, lisping all the way. “It’s a hole! The dentist has a special magic mirror for my teeth and she looked all over and she said I have a cavity.”

“Wow,” I managed and raised an eyebrow at the mom, who nodded solemnly.

“Next week,” the mother sighed. “I’m not looking forward to it …”

I understood why. This little girl could raise roofs at the mere sight of needles. Just ten days prior the mom had shared with me her mortification at the horrified looks people had given her when she’d emerged with her child from a routine blood draw. “Everyone in that waiting room must have been convinced we were slicing her in pieces,” the mom had vented. “I can’t believe they hadn’t all called Child Protective Services or 911.”

“Laughing gas …” I mouthed.

The mom inhaled and shrugged and nodded all in one. Skeptical and perhaps a little hopeful.

“Not next week,” the child pointed out. “Tonight!”

The mom and I exchanged looks.

“What do you mean, tonight?” the mother asked. “Doc Dee said she’ll see us after lunch next Tuesday.”

“Yeah,” the little girl waved this information away. “But I have a cavity,” she stressed. “So the Tooth Fairy is going to get it first.”

She opened her mouth to give us both a good look before turning to me. “I don’t know why the dentist needed a magic mirror,” she added and her voice rose in puzzlement. “I can see my cavity right away already.”

She held her mouth agape and pointed to a newly lost incisor. “See? It’s right here.”

 

 

For The Daily Post

Know Everything

 

child in water fountain

Photo: Atara Katz

 

 

“How did you learn how to know everything?” she asked.

“I don’t think anyone knows everything,” I responded, only half-attending. A siren from a fire-engine distracted me. The driver leaned on the horn. Someone must have not given the emergency vehicle the right of way.

“But how did you learn how to know everything?” she insisted.

The First Grader’s tone brought me back to full attention. She hung her big brown eyes on me.

“You mean, how do people work on knowing more and more?” I tried.

A shadow of a frown passed over the small visage, then the girl seemed to decide this not-at-all-what-I-asked-about-reframe is as comprehensive as this adult in front of her can probably muster at the moment. She nodded.

“Different people may have different ways of learning,” I replied, “but for me, I like finding out new things. So I observe and try to listen. I read a lot, and I ask plenty of questions …”

“… you do ask a lot of questions,” she interrupted. “But sometimes I think you already know the answers.”

I grinned. “Sometimes I do … And sometimes,” I teased, “I think you know the answers to your questions, too …”

 

 

For The Daily Post

It’s a Zoo!

its a zoo

Photo: Pinterest

 

“It’s a zoo over there!”

She exclaimed. Out of breath.

Cheeks still red from the stairs

And the cold evening air.

“It’s a zoo in the store.

It’s a zoo in the park.

It’s a zoo … at the zoo,”

Her smile grew.

She cracked up.

Couldn’t stop.

Her delight

Only matched

By the first time she ‘got’

“Slipped my mind” meant forgot.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Ghoulish Goulash

goulash yummly

Old Fashioned Goulash (Yummly.com)

 

She hates soup. She hates stew.

She can’t stand beef. Tomatoes, too.

She doesn’t care if it’s tradition.

She doesn’t care it’s grandma’s edition.

To her the concept is just foolish

And your goulash is plain ghoulish.

 

 

For The Daily Post

A Pun Discovery

duck duck duck OfirAsif

Photo: Ofir Asif

 

The five-year-old bounded up the stairs. I could hear him giggling. He stopped two steps below the landing and tilted his head at me. A brown curl flopped over one eye and he blew at it.

“When does a duck duck?” he challenged.

I grinned at his giddiness. Language for this child had just began to turn more fun than frustration, and his emerging fascination was delicious. “When?”

He chortled. “When you throw something at it! Because …” he demonstrated, bobbing so deeply that I reached over to grab his shoulder to ensure he didn’t lose his balance on the steep stairs, “duck … like this … is same as … quack quack duck!”

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

“Just a Little Bit of Crumbs”

 

It was a few minutes before dinner.

He wanted a cookie.

His mother said the timing wasn’t great. He’ll have to wait. Can get one for dessert.

He frowned. His lips turned down in a pout but puckered in consideration as his eyes inspected the contents of the transparent cookie jar.

“But maybe I can taste it now,” he bargained. “Just a teeny tiny cookie, like this,” he pointed to a broken piece at the bottom of the jar. “You see, Mama? Just a little bit of crumbs …”

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Rhyme Time

 

dragonhillart.blogspot.com

Photo: dragonhillart.blogspot.com

 

“Hi, bye, my, spy,” he walked in, grinning.

I smiled at the five-and-a-half year old. A head of brown curls and melt-you-on-the-spot dark-chocolate eyes, green glasses, summer freckles, a missing tooth from playground accident at age three, a superhero hearing aid. Pure charm.

“Why, shy, guy, cry?” he challenged.

“Why indeed?” I chuckled.

“Ask my dad,” he giggled. “He told me that one. One, sun, fun, done.”

“You’re rhyming a lot today!”

He nodded. “I’m practicing. My grandpa gives me a dime every time I rhyme.”

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Berry Prickly

blackberry

Berry Prickly

 

Gavin (age 4) is picking berries with his mom and grandpa in the woods outside his grandpa’s house. He’d picked a few himself but encountered a thorn … and now is quite content holding the bowl, nursing his owee finger, and ‘directing traffic’ to the “good ones.”

Gavin: “I know why it called a Berry.”

Mom, intrigued: “Why?”

Gavin: “Because it berry prickly!”

 

 

For The Daily Post