Missing: one bottom baby tooth. Really, it's lost.

 

When is a punch more than a punch?

Well, if your name is Bryce McMurray, then today at roughly nap-o-clock your little brother decided to haul off and punch your face, launching your wiggly tooth into the vast black hole depths of the closet. So delighted was our Bryce, by the fact that his tooth has been shooken free, he never fussed, never tattled, never asserted any rights of revenge upon Deacon (we have a no face hitting rule, and he really could have played it for all it was worth). Instead, the three of us made a lenthy Crime Dog McGruff search of those closet depths--to no avail.
When Phil got home and heard the big news he gave Bryce fifty cents. Bryce immediately proclaimed his intention to head to the dollar store at the nearest opportunity.

We're glad he's still in school.