The other night J was crawling around on the floor and he bumped his head on the door. He started to cry, but nothing horrible, so I wasn't in any "rush" to get to him, although I was making my towards him, when M (the second Mommy in the house) hurries over to him, scoops him up on her hip and started screaming, "J knocked his tooth out! He knocked his tooth out! Oh, No...He knocked a tooth out!"
She was panicking and she was holding something in her hand that she had picked up from the floor beneath him. I was not panicked, but I was startled and upset by it. I grabbed him from her and just hugged him first, trying to console him...all the while thinking in my head, "Poor little guy. He'll have a missing tooth for the next 7 or so years....Poor little boy."
Then, I pulled him away to look at his mouth, expecting a face full of blood, and about the time I looked at his clean mouth, M says excitedly, "It's a piece of a goldfish. It's not his tooth.. it's not his tooth! Oh mom, it's not his tooth, it's just a goldfish cracker."
Ahhhh, sigh of relief from all of us. Then M and I just looked at each other through our tears and started belly laughing. I'll never forget that moment!
I guess if he had lost some teeth we could have gotten him a nice set of dentures, but then again, he might have turned out to look like this kid: