We walked back across the street.
Hubby drove past us on his way to PeeJay's house (on the next street) as we crossed to our house. He waved. The kids jumped up and down.
And then they got sad.
"Why did Daddy go by us?"
"I don't know." (I was harboring a secret hope that maybe he was going to do a Rita's run and surprise us, not having seen his text that he needed to stop by PeeJay's on the way home.)
No sooner had we gotten in the house than Large Fry thrusts a folded piece of paper at me.
No, not so much folded as carefully pocketed. The side I'm looking at has her name scrawled in an adult hand, and her grade. I flipped it over, and there's a happy cartoon tooth...with the caption "Guess what I lost today?"
"You lost your tooth?" I exclaimed with appropriate parental pride.
She opened her mouth wide to show me.
Sure enough, it's the one that Medium knocked looser last night.
"Good for you! Did you lose it in class?"
"Yeah! Can we call Gramma?"
Homework can wait five minutes for a call to Gramma. I pulled up Skype and dialed (for lack of a better word).
Large Fry is happy to share the news with Boppa, who is home all by himself. Even if he is Chopped Liver (he's said that enough that Medium has started calling him Chopped Liver Boppa).
Gramma got back a couple hours later and sent an immediate text. "Skype please so Gramma can see the new hole!"
Tonight, I made her set her tooth fairy box on one of the rungs of the ladder to her loft bed, so that the Tooth Fairy can find it easier, without having to root under her pillows (and risk waking her up).
We'll see how that goes.