Rites of Passage

One of the funny things about having children spaced 9 years apart is that odd little scenarios take place that I'm not sure happen with other families.

In families where there are stair-step children (like the one I grew up in) certain normal childhood happenings become common knowledge, because the younger children see the older children go through it, and know that in time they, too, will experience that very same right of passage.

For example, big brother recently lost a molar. I knew he'd been wiggling that tooth back and forth to no avail earlier that afternoon. (In our family, we're notoriously late for losing baby teeth.)

Later, when Jericho came to show the gap in his gums to me, Judah heard me ask him, "Oh, did you finally lose that tooth?", and was instantly all ears.

"You wosed a toof?" he asked, astonished, staring up at his brother in wide-eyed wonder.

This concept was completely foreign to his little 3 1/2 year old self, and fascinated, he had to see for himself both the molar and where it had been in Jericho's mouth.

Then he had to tag along as brother went into the bathroom to swish his mouth out in the sink.

When he saw the bloody water swirling down the sink he became even more fascinated.

Jericho, who is used to his little 'tag along' following him around, dropped his tooth (which still had some blood inside of it) in the drawer in the bathroom for safekeeping until later that night. You know, to put it under his pillow for the whole 'tooth fairy' schtick (even though he's a little old for that tradition, lol).

Naturally, Judah couldn't let things go at that. He asked a dozen questions. "Why? Why do people wose dere teef?" "Why?" "Why did you put your toof in da dwoor?" "Are you gonna weave your toof dere?" "Why?" "Why?" "Why?"

Then he heard about the tooth fairy.

"You git money for da toof?" he asked in amazement. Clearly, it was almost too much to take in.

The questions began again. "Wots of money or witto money?" "How does da money git in yeow piwwow?"

He's also strangely fascinated with that molar (though I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree where dental issues are concerned) and has been found in the bathroom a couple of times, drawer open just staring at it in abject fascination, poking it with his index finger...when he had no other real reason to be in there.

He'd be playing with his toys on the living room floor, and suddenly jump up and go into the bathroom...except that instead of sliding his little step-stool over to the toilet as usual, he'd stop in front of the vanity and open the drawer to stare at that tooth.

Sometimes I wonder what is going through that boys mind.

It was the same deal as when a mean neighborhood raven took out a small pigeon in our yard a while back.

After those birds were done consuming their grisly meal, the boys just had to go over and gawk at the remains (mostly just the wings and ribcage and a few scattered feathers). Oh and the bashed-in brain.

Where most girls would go look their fill but then say things like, "Ewwww, gross!" and back away, my boys are over there poking at it with a stick, inspecting. "Dude...it's got maggots crawling out of it."

Don't know if I'll ever get used to this girly-mom-raising-manly-boys thang.