That's right, we, I mean Slone, just lost his first top tooth. He officially looks like a grade school kid.

Notice anything different?

I love this photo and his egg head. He's not really an egg head. I also adore that little freckle on his eyelid. He has one on the side of his nose too.

This pic was taken probably 15 minutes after the tooth came out. If I would have taken it right after, you would have thought I punched him in the face with the blood on his lip, missing tooth and tears streaming down his face. 

I convinced him to let me tie some floss around his tooth and the other end to the door. Then I slammed the door. The tooth went flying! His face was priceless when he realized that his tooth was gone! I'm kicking myself for not taping it! He was a little startled by the little bit of blood and kinda freaked out on us. He kept yelling that his tooth hurt. Matt kept yelling that he didn't have a tooth so it couldn't hurt.

Matt and I laughed and laughed (after Slone calmed down). Especially while I was crawling around on the floor looking for the tooth. It's times like that (the laughing with Matt) that I really like being a mom. Like we have our own little private club with our own little inside jokes. 

I'm excited to see this kid grow up! Seven is just around the corner! We are getting ready for a party and a sleep over!
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my five year old

He's five, but he thinks he's eleven. He's sick of school. Well, sick of riding the bus, he says. He still sucks his thumb and needs his blanket at bedtime. He's the best at cuddles. This morning, he got in bed with me after Matt left for work. We watched Funniest Home Videos. We laughed for an hour, while his brother was still in bed. (In all honesty, Funniest Videos is one of my favorite things to watch.) He's obsessed with A-B patterns, something they learned in school. He laughs at his own knock knock jokes. He has incredibly dry skin. He hates getting his hair cut. His favorite food is chicken. He asks if we can go to Buffalo Wild Wings after church every Sunday. He can spell his name, dog, cat, and goat, but doesn't recognize the letter Z (that one I don't get). ---this is where the post goes downhill, fast.--- He has thrown up over the smell of his own poop. And just this week he asked me if I had a pee sack. What? So I asked him where his was. I found out only boys have them, I'll let you use your imagination. Yeah, I'm sick of him riding the bus too.
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