My Dad

One sunny afternoon, I discovered I had a loose tooth. Wiggly and weird, it moved with the slightest nudge, and I couldn’t stop poking at it with my tongue. My mom smiled when I showed her and said, “Go show your dad!”

Excited, I ran out into the backyard, barefoot on the warm grass, where my dad was mowing the lawn. The air smelled like summer and fresh-cut grass. He stopped the mower, leaned down with a curious grin, and I proudly opened my mouth to show off the wobbly wonder.

Before I could even finish saying “It’s really loose,” he reached in with his dad-strength fingers—and YANK! Next thing I knew, the tooth was in his hand, and I was blinking in surprise, a breeze rushing into the new hole in my smile.

And then I tasted it—cut grass! Ew! The flavor of lawn clippings mixed with surprise and a tiny bit of betrayal. I thought he was just going to wiggle it, not go full dentist-mode!

I ran back inside with a mix of triumph and horror, my tooth in one hand and a grassy taste in my mouth, yelling, “He pulled it out!” My mom just laughed.

It wasn’t the fairy tale moment I expected, but it’s one I’ll never forget—thanks to Dad, the lawnmower, and that bold little tooth.