Seeing me snag a tidbit of fish from the grill, Aiden asked if he could have a bite for himself.  Alas, there was none to be had, except for the entire filets that were finishing over the fire.  “You can wait for dinner for your taste.”  I told him. 

To which he replied, “Can I cut my own dinner tonight?” 

“Sure, if you pull out that loose tooth.”

“Okay Dad.”

And out it came, with a push, a twist, and more than one grimace.

Bedtime rolled around and he was all set to put the newly mined bottom incisor under his pillow, but decided he would wait until all the temporary tools of digestion were out and the “big giant” ones were in place.  “I’ll save them all in a jar so the Tooth Fairy can come and take them all at one time.”  I guess he’s looking to win the tooth lottery instead of receiving several smaller paydays.