"And the Mother of the Year Goes to...."

My friends and I have this running joke called "Mother of the Year." When we really screw up regarding our kids, we bestow the "Mother of the Year" title on the offending mom. Chris wants to create an actual trophy because it happens so often.We've even joked that we should have a "MOY" ceremony each year to see who screwed up the most.

I do believe I have now skyrocketed to the top of that list.

Let me explain. Ann Catherine lost her fifth tooth tonight. Oddly enough, it all happened because she wiped out on the hardwood taking her hamper back to her room. No, she didn't knock her tooth out, but she got a nice goose egg on her head. Chris grabbed the Dora ice pack and she crawled in the chair with me. After she grew tired of applying it to her forehead, she apparently put the ice pack in her mouth and bit down. Next thing I know I hear, "Mommy, my tooth just came out!!"

Now that's a crazy chain of events, isn't it?

As blood poured from her mouth, we raced to the bathroom. As we rinsed, Chris reveled in the fact that she looked like Bobby Clark with both of her top teeth missing (you hockey fans will appreciate that. The rest of you, just google and you'll get it. Pretty funny.) I grabbed the tooth and put it on a paper towel on the kitchen counter.

Oh, you know where this is going don't you??!

An hour later, we started getting the girls ready for bed. As they crawled in bed, I remembered - the tooth!! I raced to the kitchen to get it...

...and the paper towel was GONE!!

It all started coming back. I remembered walking through the kitchen earlier and thinking, "Good grief. There is stuff  EVERYWHERE!" and then putting said stuff in the garbage.

Oh my word. You have GOT to be kidding me!

"CHRIS!!!!!" I screamed.

He came running. Unfortunately, so did Ann Catherine.

I had the garbage can out and he immediately knew. Apparently we have been married way too long. He said, "Oh please tell me you didn't throw her tooth away!"

And right on cue, the wailing began.

"Just help me look!" I impatiently said while Ann Catherine stood there sobbing. All the while I'm thinking, "How on God's green earth are we going to find that tiny little tooth in all of this trash???"

And if we don't, what do we do? Grab her first one - that the tooth fairy left us - and hope she doesn't notice?? Write the tooth fairy a note??

"Dear Tooth Fairy, even though there is no tooth under my pillow, please leave money because MY MOTHER IS AN IDIOT AND THREW MY TOOTH AWAY??? In the meantime, can I come live with you? Love, Ann Catherine"

As all of those thoughts went racing through my brain, God must have felt sorry for the mom rifling through trash, because I saw a paper towel all wadded up.

And tucked inside, was Ann Catherine's tooth.

Oh thank you Jesus! We grabbed it and put it in a Ziploc bag. As we placed it under her pillow, Ann Catherine said, "Are you sure that's my tooth?"

Poor child. I'm going to assume that watching your mother frantically search through trash looking for your tooth scars you a bit.

In the meantime, go ahead and send that "Mother of the Year" trophy to my house. I'll put it on the mantle next to the crumpled, blood-stained, food-stained paper towel.