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At the age of five years and six months, Jim passed a
milestone which raised his station in life from a small boy
to that of a growing, experienced young man. It was more
important than his first hair-cut, for he did not want me to
hold his hand or bribe him with candy. It was more final than
his first day at kindergarten, because he neither hesitated nor
ran with childish abandon. He simply, bravely did what he
had to do�
He stood, stubbornly containing his fears, while his father
tied a string around his loose bottom tooth. Jim watched his
father test the position of the string carefully, making sure
it was attached securely. Then suddenly he felt one powerful
yank and the tooth was out. It was all over!
His father held the string in front of us while we inspected
the enameled object dangling and jerking at each slight command
of those strong, familiar hands. Jim smiled, showing a gap
in his bottom row of teeth and then he pulled his lip far down
from its� normal place to reveal a red, bleeding hole in his
gum. Passing the test without a tear, Jim had lost his first
baby tooth!
Jim took the string with his prize tied in the middle,
while I ran for the camera. This would make a great picture!
Placing him by the dining room table where the candles would
be a decorative background, I turned on the light, put a flash
bulb into the holder and cautioned him to keep the string below
his face, so we could catch his full expression of accomplishment.
Then I brought the camera into focus and we were ready.
I pressed the shutter.. but nothing happened. For some
reason the flash bulb had not gone off. I turned the film to
the next number, got Jim ready again and pushed the button.
For the second time, there was no instant of blinding light.
Under my finger the camera clicked with a hollow, unfinished
echo, which was both disappointing and maddening. After our
third try, I was convinced that our camera was out of working
order and our picture taking must be postponed. Upon hearing
this regretful news, Jim shrugged his shoulders and made a bee-
line for the bathroom where he could gaze in the mirror at his
new empty spot.
Although there is no photograph to show this step in our
sons� development, my memory does not depend on batteries
or film. I can still see Jim swinging his tooth on that piece
of string, while he proudly holds his lip in an awkward position
so his audience can not miss viewing that lonely little space
of reddened gum, bordered on either side with white, straight
teeth. In my mind, I have snapped the picture of his moment
of triumph. I have a perfect likeness of Jim and I will keep
it forever in my private, indestructible scrap-book.
THE END
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