another tooth

Caroline's second tooth fell out this morning, so now she has a gaping hole and tries to say "Sally is selling seashells by the seashore."

Years ago, when William had a little friend over and when the two of them had been excluding Caroline all afternoon, Caroline, barely two years old, picked up her doll by the leg, started swinging it and hurled it in a perfect arc at the boy's face. Out flew a tooth, blood flowing from the sobbing boy's mouth and at the door, ringing the doorbell, was the boy's mother. It was embarrassing as the reality of what had actually happened seemed so far removed from reality, but the story has become a classic in our repertoire of teething stories.

Life is stranger than fiction. That's why we as writers have such a ball: if only you pay close attention, you have another subject for another story. To hold a mirror up to nature, that's what Shakespeare said. Mimesis. Write what you know. All good art has a foothold in reality...which is why I never bother to read science fiction.