The Wobbly Tooth
For six days, Lily had a tooth that wobbled.
It wobbled when she talked, and it wobbled when she smiled. It would not come out.
Lily wanted it out. She wanted it out by herself, with nobody helping.
Everybody in the house had an idea about it.
"String," said her big brother Sam. "We tie a string to it, I run away very fast, and out it comes."
"No, thank you," said Lily.
Grandpa had a better idea. Grandpa's ideas were never better.
"String on the tooth, string on the door handle, and SLAM," said Grandpa.
Lily looked at the door, and the door looked very big.
"No, thank you," said Lily.
Then Nana came in with the pepper shaker.
"One enormous sneeze," said Nana, "and out it flies."
"Where does it fly to?" said Lily.
Nobody knew, and that was the trouble with the pepper.
"No, thank you," said Lily.
That was three ideas, and Lily did not want any of them. So she went and sat on the back step by herself.
She pushed the tooth with her tongue. Wobble, wobble.
She was hungry. There was an apple in the bowl, and hard things hurt the wobbly side.
Lily bit it anyway.
CRUNCH.
It was a cold apple, and it was a very good one.
She chewed, and she chewed some more.
Then Lily stopped chewing.
There was something in there with the apple. It was small, and it was hard, and it was not apple at all.
Lily spat into her hand, very carefully.
And there it was in the middle of her palm, white as a tiny shell.
"Come and see!" shouted Lily.
They came running from three different rooms.
Nobody had pulled it, and nobody had slammed anything. Sam looked a little disappointed about the string.
That night Lily wrapped the tooth in paper and put it under her pillow.
She pushed her tongue into the gap, just to check.
It was soft and new, and it tasted of apple.
Lily went to sleep with her tongue in the gap.
