My brother posted this photo on Facebook this morning. Yesterday was Crazy Hair Day at school.
And to make the day even more awesome, Noah's other front tooth came out. I don't know how your day could get any better when you are six! He was pretty excited. And he has one killer smile, although corn on the cob could be difficult for a while.
Speaking of corn on the cob, the only time I ever got my name on the board for talking in school was when I asked the girl sitting next to me in kindergarten if she had a hard time eating corn on the cob when both of her front teeth fell out. This was obviously a very important question. It's serious business when you are five years old and you can no longer eat corn. However, the teacher did not think it was important and thus I got my name written on the board in big, giant neon letters.
Actually, no, not really, it was only written in white chalk. But it felt like big, giant neon letters. It felt like everyone was looking at me, wondering how I could have been so careless. And I remember sitting there, burning with embarrassment. I was a rule-follower, not a rule-breaker. But at that moment I was pretty sure my chances of being valedictorian had just been lost forever. Pretty soon my parents would know and then my cousins would know and then the entire world would know that I was a socially motivated and gastronomically interested kindergartner who had no regard for authority. My small, little world was crashing down around me all because of a stinking vegetable.
And then the next day came and my name was erased and all was forgotten.
Apparently I was a bit dramatic in my younger years.