Last night, just about a month to the day that Joe lost his first tooth, Julia lost hers. She never really said anything, but I have to figure that the fact that Joe was so far ahead of her had to be on her mind: Joe lost his shortly after his fifth birthday, and Julia lost hers about a month shy of her seventh. They say that all’s well that ends well, but we haven’t seen the new tooth yet. If the past is any kind of guide, I see lengthy consultations with orthodontists on the horizon.

This tooth had been hanging on by a thread for a few days—I fully expected that she was going to lose it in the pool at camp, where it would be lost until they drained the water at the end of the season—but she actually yanked it out herself last night at bedtime. The girl’s got more guts than I would have given her credit for.

The tooth fairy paid us a visit overnight and left behind two shiny dollar coins: an outcome Julia was quite pleased with. In fact, she’s sleeping with her coin bank in her bed tonight, for reasons that she wasn’t quite able to articulate. As long as she’s happy and isn’t wandering the halls, I’m not going to argue.