I will be the first to admit that I often label things as THE WORST, even though they are not actually THE WORST. But, you see, at the time, they are the bane of existence, and are deserving of the label. People, I’m realizing, are kind of literal, and are quick to tell me that what I am whining about may not, in fact, actually be THE WORST.

Take, for example, when I tweeted about the sound of a person filing her nails. I called it THE WORST, because as I listened to my mother filing her broken nails, I got goosebumps over every inch of my body and needed it to go away rightthatveryminute. So, in that moment, it truly was THE WORST. People got all hot and bothered and were quick to tell me that it wasn’t the worst, as the sound of clipping nails was actually THE WORST. I will argue that at the time of said tweet, I was not listening to anyone clip nails. So.

Take, for example, when I announced that having to wiggle someone else’s tooth was THE WORST PART OF PARENTING, my friend was quick to point out that wiping someone else’s ass when said child is perched on all fours bum-blazing is, in fact, was worse than sticking your fingers in a child’s mouth. Fair indeed. But I haven’t wiped a child’s nether regions in a very long time (Winning!), but I have, in fact, wiggled teeth.

One tooth, to be exact.

One tooth that has been loose for exactly a year.

A very determined child has been working away at that thing for months and months and months.

At first it did not budge at all.

“Wiggle it, Mommy!”

Then it started to move, just a tad.

“Wiggle it, Mommy!”

Then it started to move back-and-forth, front-to-back.

“Wiggle it, Mommy!”

Then it started to move back-and-forth, side-to-side.

“Wiggle it, Mommy!”

And then, wonder of wonders, last night happened.

Finally.

I didn’t have to wiggle it anymore.

I did, however, have a giant cry because, you know, my baby lost her first tooth. I will never have another moment like this; I will never have another child lose her very first tooth. Bittersweet, at best.

And I did, however, have to dive headfirst into my couch cushions as a favor for the cashless tooth fairy.

(I did manage to discover $4.00 in change—thanks to my husband’s sock drawer, the bottom of my camera bag, and my car’s cup holders—and am feeling overly accomplished at this feat.)

And from the look on her face this morning when she discovered her reward AND that her tooth fairy—who she has named LouLou—allowed her to keep her tooth, I guess it really wasn’t THE WORST after all.