Milk teeth

Last night after William and Evie were both in bed, they called out an order for warm milk. I roller-skated into their bedroom (not really, but I felt like a waiter on wheels), took their order, and reminded them that they would have to both brush their teeth again.

"Okay," they answered.

I skated back to the kitchen, poured some whole milk into a ceramic mug and nuked it for a minute to warm it up. I emptied the mug into a blue-and-green plastic sippy-cup for William, and repeated the process for Evie.

I skated back to the darkened bedroom, handed them their beverages and reminded them about brushing their teeth when they're done. They again agreed, so I stepped out. Two minutes later I returned to their table, I mean, bedsides and asked if they were finished.

William had gulped down the warm milk and handed his bottle to me as he disappeared out the door. Evie hadn't sipped much of hers, so I asked if she wanted more. "No," she said, and handed it off to me. I leaned down and gathered her up in my arms, removing her blankets and baby doll, to go brush her teeth again.

As I left the room with Evie, William cruised past me to hop back into bed. I asked him if he already brushed his teeth again. "Yep," he answered without breaking stride and plopped into bed.

"Really?" I asked. He nodded excitedly, but I still wasn't sure, so I gave him the breathalizer test. He breathed onto my face, and indeed it did smell minty fresh. "Okay," I acknowledged, followed up with an enthusiastic, "good job!"

I scrubbed Evie's mouth and returned her to her crib, and the two drifted off into a plaque-free slumber.

It's pretty cool that they're both able (and willing!) to brush their teeth now, usually by themselves. In fact, most of the time they don't even want to let us help. I'll chalk that up as a victory for good parenting. :)