She’s supposed to be in her room for her (uhg uhm – MY) daily rest time and she comes bouncing through the hallway to where I am at my bathroom sink saying, “mom, mom, I’ve got to show you something that’s very important.” I’m highly doubtful because at rest time suddenly everything is important, so I’m ready to shut her off and send her back, when she says, “I’ve got a loose tooth!” My doubt doubles as I’m thinking, she wants that loose tooth so bad now she’s imagining it, but more to confirm my suspicions than anything, I say, “where? show me.” She locates the subject and points it out, I stick a finger in her mouth and on the tooth, do a little push/pull on it and it moves slightly back and forth. “You do!,” are the first words out of my mouth as all doubt is replaced by joining in the jubilation of a five year olds first rite of passage in the world of growing up. We celebrate a moment, she goes back to her room, I’m alone again trying to pick up where I left off with whatever I was doing and then the sadness drifts in. I really like her baby teeth. I watched them come in one by one and I kind of would like for them to stay there, for her to stay there, where she is now. Here goes that first tooth and I can feel the pain of the wiggle. It’s a rite of passage for me too.