"Something funny happened," the six-year-old informed me on the phone. He confuses "fun" with "funny", so I waited for him to tell me about the new fun thing in his life.
"My second tooth fell out," he informed me.
"The one right next to the first one."
"So, you are now missing two front teeth?"
"You can actually sing the song All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth" this Christmas!"
"But I've forgot the song."
"When you come back to Norman, ask Grammy. She'll teach you."
Then, the three year old got on the phone.
"When are my teeth going to fall out?" Emphasis on the "my".
"When you're six years old."
"Can they fall out when I'm four years old?" She's recently learned to negotiate when we lay down the law. But she doesn't quite get what she can negotiate about.
"Your teeth will fall out when you are six years old. You'll have to be patient until then, OK?"
"You know something funny that happened?"
"What happened?" She's now competing with brother. If something fun happened to him, something fun must have happened to her.
Long pause. "Nothing".
There's a three-year-old 10,000 miles away who badly needs a hug from dad. 10 more days!