Tooth

Emily has lost another tooth! This is her first for a few years and apparently (she has been keeping count, of course) it is her ninth in all.

"And I'm so happy, Daddy, because I'm nine years old, which is the best age to be (I've always wanted to be nine) and I've lost nine teeth. Nine and nine! Which is much better than eight and eight, because eight is an even number and odd numbers are better, aren't they and if you multiply nine and nine ... [I wonder what I should make for lunch today.] ... and when I'm ten ... [Maybe something with chicken. We haven't had chicken for a while.] ... and you won't forget, will you Dad? [Perhaps that Nigel Slater recipe with pesto and mozzarella.]
Dad?"

"What's that darling?"

"I said, I'm going to put the tooth under my pillow now. You won't forget, will you?"

"Of course not, darling."

(I did forget, of course, but luckily Nevi remembered, or Emily would have unjustly accused me of not paying attention to her. As if....)