A beautiful chain of events.

Posted by Taylor |28 Aug 14 | 0 comments

Rowan lost a tooth the day before yesterday.

According to Cricket’s tradition, she placed the tooth in a sandwich baggie and sat it in the top of the 3-tier dessert plate holder that centers the island in our kitchen. It is not such an odd place when you consider the uncashed checks, skateboard parts, jewellery, and dried produce often found mingling on these plates. Anyway, it is important to note that she neglected to write Rowan’s name, and the date on the baggie when placing it here for safe keeping.

Ready for bed, Rowan asked for his tooth in order to place it under his pillow. The result of a dinner put away, and dishes washed makes for nice and clean kitchen it also makes things easy to find. But alas, the tooth was gone. Missing. Sandwich bag and all.

The search was on. She went through drawers, baskets, cupboards, and even the refrigerator. Cricket, bordering on tears, grabbed some tongs and headed to the backyard to pilfer through our garbage cans. Sadly, Wednesday happened to be trash day. All empty and tooth lost.

As many of you know, Rowan is a heavy and fast sleeper. He’s out at 8:30 no matter what. Rowan remains, to this day, unaware of his misplaced lost tooth and the trickiness that followed.

This morning Rowan awoke to a toy under his pillow, just like all other times. He went on his merry way oblivious to the slight done to the creepy little fairy that collects human teeth. Cricket, however remained saddened by her dupery and oversight.

On to other things…

Cricket and I are still adjusting to having no kids at home during the day. It makes for a quiet house. Today we were able to spend some time together. As we each made ourselves some lunch. Emptying out the individually bagged morsels I, had leftover chicken fajitas, her, leftover salad mixings. We discussed my work; Cricket’s soon to launch Etsy store and other things.

Suddenly Cricket makes the oddest face. An expression of horror mixed with humor and pain. I inquire! She doesn’t respond, but with two fingers, she reaches in her mouth and pulls out a tooth.

I ask if she broke a tooth. She, tearing up, shakes her head in the negative.

After 22 years of marriage; I’ve come to know this woman pretty well. I’m not saying she predictable. In truth she predictably unpredictable.
But in this case, the only obvious question I could ask was if the tooth was Rowan’s.

With nothing more than an affirming head shake and eyes expressing a deep desire for none of this to be true, she picked up her fork and began to search her salad. I asked her was she was doing.

She looked me in the most desperate way, “I’m hoping to find the other half.”


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