even little girls named Ruthie…*

A few weeks ago, the Bee lost a tooth at school. It came home in a little envelope marked "Tooth Taxi." The usual Tooth Fairy transaction occurred, and for some reason, I still have this envelope, complete with tooth, in my night table. Along with all the other teeth the Bee has lost (lost naturally, that is, the abscessed one was too gross to hang onto).

Why, blogging friends, can't I get rid of the teeth?

It's one thing to hang on to a lock of hair from the first hair cut. Or the first booties. The first little hats and baby outfits are too adorable to let go.

But what's up with the teeth?

Will I, years from now, look at these teeth and try to remember the little girl's mouth they once fit? Will I end up in a nursing home with a drawer full of teeth, not just from the Bee, but the Potato too?

What are you hanging on to, out of sheer sentimental value? Can you top my tooth fetish? (can't wait to see the search hits I'll get from that phrase)

*bonus points of absolutely no value to the person to first identify the book quoted in the title of this post


June 5, 2006. growing up. 27 comments.