From within Sam’s room came a panicked yelp. My first instinct was, sadly, “Oh great, more hysterics.” She’d just spent half an hour processing the impending first day of school with my wife, and I’d really hoped she’d gotten it all out of her system. Still, trying to be a good dad, I went calmly into her room. I was not prepared for the news she relayed.

Sitting up in her bed, compact mirror in hand and a look of anxious concern on her face, she relayed rapidly, “I put my tooth up my nose. I thought it would be funny, but now I can’t get it out.” Panic toyed at the edges of her mouth. Tears threatened to explode from her eyes. I had to try really hard not to giggle, having been taken to the ER in my childhood for a carrot I stuck up my own nose. The tooth in question had been lost just hours earlier and was supposed to be under her pillow for the tooth fairy to retrieve.

I asked which nostril contained the tooth. “I don’t remember. This one feels stuffy…but I’m pretty sure it’s this one.”