Two days in Arkansas and already teeth are falling out. (No offense Shellye)
Our new house came with a fun slide/swing set play thing in the backyard that was an instant hit. Looks like fun doesn't it?
Mike was in the backyard watching the kids while I was inside checking box numbers off the list as the movers brought things into the house. Mike came in with a little boy who had obviously been crying and had blood around his mouth. Mike asked me to clean up his mouth and comfort him a bit. He said that Austin had bit his tongue. I cleaned him up and sent the content little guy back out to play. A few minutes later Jack came in yelling, "Mom! Austin's mouth is bleeding!" I go out to check on it and find him with a little more blood so I investigate his tongue more closely.
"Tongue looking good... teeth look ... wait a minute.
There's a big red hole where a tooth is supposed to be!" I felt my stomach get all icky and my surroundings started to float a little. I paused for a moment then went to Mike.
"Austin's front tooth is gone." I calmly tell him.* He gets up and we walk over to the basketball goal where Austin and Jack had been playing. Nothing there. Back to the slide and sure enough there at the bottom of the slide lying on top of the dirt was this:
"How is this even possible?" You ask.
*despite my calmness that was a rough thirty minutes, but at least I met (via the phone) a really awesome dentist.