My seven-year-old lost his third tooth today. Actually, he lost it in more than one sense – he’s yet to actually manage to have a tooth to put under his pillow.

The first tooth, the little man actually refused to wiggle. I think he was afraid it would hurt when it came out – I’m not sure. Whatever the reason, by the time the tooth finally came out, its replacement was already grown into place behind it, so he had an extra tooth for a little while. He still never wiggled it out himself – it came out in his lunch, and he swallowed it. Stomach 1, Tooth Fairy 0.

His second tooth did almost exactly the same thing. We managed to talk him into wiggling that one, since he was no longer afraid of it hurting or bleeding or whatever. But when the tooth’s time was up, the tooth came out when he was eating and he never even noticed. Down the hatch it went. Stomach 2, Tooth Fairy 0.

Flash forward to this morning. The Boy Wonder raced up the stairs during breakfast, holding a tooth in his hand. He did it! He got it out himself, and he didn’t swallow it! He was so proud. He flashed me a toothless grin and asked if he could wait to put it under his pillow until after he showed it to Daddy. Sure, I said. Well, Daddy took a little longer getting ready than the Boy Wonder expected, so he put the tooth down on the edge of the table while he brushed his remaining teeth and put on his shoes and did the other things that first graders do to get ready for school.

Wouldn’t you know it? Somewhere between his putting it down and his Daddy emerging to take a look, the stinking dog ate the tooth. Stomach(s) 3, Tooth Fairy 0.

We give up. The poor kid’s already written two notes to explain why there’s a note instead of a tooth under his pillow. I think by now the Tooth Fairy probably understands.