Changing smiles

They hung on for as long as they could. They evoked shudders, even from un-shudderable individuals. Friday: Wrestling with the neighbors. Out number one. Monday: Lunch at St. Mark's. Out number two. And now we have a front-toothless seven-year old, looking older and yet somehow younger, simultaneously. I think he's relieved they're out, although he had no interest in pulling the teeth nor hastening their departures. Maybe I'm projecting here, but losing teeth signals change; baby teeth never come back. It's a very tangible way to tell a seven-year old that he's growing up. Of course, this is what he wants: to get bigger and stronger and faster. This is the promise we make as we encourage him to eat good food. But then you turn around and it's more than just running and height: it's long division and first communion. It's responsibility and more homework.

But, enough deep thought. The teeth are out and Eddie sure looks cute.