Dec. 28: Almost every morning, when Andrew wakes up, he stumbles blearily into the room where Sylvia and I are playing, curls up on my lap, and mumbles, “How many teeth does she have today?” When I tell him I haven’t checked, he brightens up, bends down to Sylvia, and asks me to feel to see if she still has seven or if she now has eight. “Still seven teeth,” I tell him.
But today, I checked that top left gum, and I felt a sharp edge coming through. “Eight!” I told my boy. “Today, Sylvia has eight teeth!”
Althea, Bryan, Andrew, and Sylvia