Parent trauma

Yesterday, I came home from work to a content Mike and Hank, who had spent the day (a non-class day for Mike) together. Dinner was waiting (sweet...) and we sat down to eat. Suddenly, Mike announces:

"Oh! Hank, tell Mommy your big news."

We both look to Hank expectantly. He knits his brows.

"Um. I went poo on the potty!"

I initiate a happy chorus of congratulations, but Mike interrupts us.

"No, not that news, Hank. The *other* big news!" *wiggles his eyebrows and whispers something to Hank*

"Oh! Mommy, I have a loose toof!"

"What?!" *panic stricken tone* "What ever do you mean? He's only 4, just a baby!!" *wild eyed look*

*crickets chirp*

Mike pauses with a bite of chicken halfway to his mouth, quickly realizing that what he took to be normal, happy news was in the process of scarring me for life.

"Well, yes, it's a bit early, but not out of the normal range for this sort of thing."

"Very early! Very, very early!! It's too soon for him to lose a tooth! He's too little. And I love his teeth! They're so cute!! Nope, it's too soon for him to lose a tooth."

*matching curious gazes by both father and son* They even look alike. This is all so very unfair. I think a child is duty bound to look like his mother, don't you?

I'm very, very unhappy with this development. I love Hank's baby teeth, and I want them to stay put until I'm ready to part with them. *frowns unhappily*

*sniffle*