I learned a valuable lesson Wednesday night: Don't give a 7-year-old Laffy Taffy.
At the grocery store Wednesday night, my daughter asked if she could have some Laffy Taffy.
I told her I didn't see a problem with it.
Oh, if only I had the gift of foresight!
I bought her a strip of the candy, took her home and carried my groceries into the house. My daughter walked outside to retrieve her bookbag from the van while I put my purchases away.
The conversation I carried on with my husband came to an immediate halt, however, when I heard my little girl screaming bloody murder. She ran back into the house with her Laffy Taffy in one hand and blood and drool dribbling down her chin.
Her front tooth -- which hadn't been real loose, but had started to wiggle its way out -- hung from her gums by a single thread of tissue. My daughter sunk her teeth so far into the Laffy Taffy, she almost pulled the tooth out of her mouth.
I quickly jumped into "MotherMode" and soaked a washcloth in cold water and told her to keep it in her mouth.
Blood continued to drip everywhere.
"We can't leave that tooth in there," I told my husband. "But I can't pull it out."
I'd already pulled two of my little girls loose teeth, I couldn't do another one. It just grossed me out too much.
So, my husband went into the bathroom to wash his hands while I comforted my daughter and asked her if I could see the damage.
Now, I'm a messer. I can't help but mess with things that are probably best left alone. In this case, however, it worked out.
All I had to do was touch my daughter's tooth and it dropped into my hand -- no pain, no crying, no fuss.
By the time my husband returned to us from the bathroom, I held the tooth in my hand and my daughter was proudly displaying her toothless mouth in a tearful smile.
She finished her Laffy Taffy last night without incident.