I was pretty sure Caroline would stay in the tent all night.
1. It was her idea and she's not one to admit that she might have been wrong
2. She is afraid of nothing
3. I am pretty sure she's been thinking about getting a place of her own for some time now
4. It took all of her - admittedly considerable - powers of persuasion of convince Edward to give the tent a try and when it looked like he was going to balk at the last minute she shrugged and said, "Fine. See you tomorrow" and walked out the backdoor; blatting her squeaky recorder, unfazed by the prospect of a night alone in the woods
But I was utterly surprised that Edward stayed with her; more surprised when I found him calmly reading a book in the tent this morning despite the thunderstorm that had awoken me and sent me sprinting into the backyard to rescue them; and positively gobsmacked by the fact that I slept like the proverbial baby (unlike a real baby which in my experience never freaking sleeps) while Steve worried himself into insomnia and trudged out to check on them at 8, 10, midnight, one and then seven in the morning.
It was like bizarro world here last night.
In other news, Caroline chipped her front tooth yesterday climbing into a hot tub at a graduation party.
[please. please let this be the only time I ever write that sentence]
Actually, broke her front tooth would probably be a more accurate description since she sheared off the bottom fifth of the tooth, leaving a noticeable gap and a razor-sharp edge.
Funny thing. You are a parent for thirteen years and you deal with all sorts of things but when something new arises (say, a possible dental emergency) you discover that you still don't know what the hell you are doing. Initially, I thought Caroline had exposed the nerve and done significantly more damage to her tooth than she did; and I realized that I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do. Call our dentist on a Sunday and hope they use a paging service? Go to the ER? They have emergency vets; do they have emergency dentists?
By the time I stopped running around in circles I saw that Steve had gotten Caroline a bratwurst and some strawberries and she had stopped crying in order to eat them. I'm still not sure what constitutes a dental disaster or what a person should do when they are faced with one; but I am pretty clear on the fact that anyone eating a bratwurst can probably wait to seek dental care for at least twelve hours.
Which is what we did.
Since the nerve was undamaged the dentist said he thought he could get the tooth filed and then built back up again without anesthetic; gas ok? I said sure. So Caroline stretched out on the dental chair with her book and a nose full of nitrous oxide and eventually the dentist returned to work on her tooth.
Caroline fumbled with the mask, muttering something.
The doctor said, "Yes? Do you have a question?"
Caroline, her feet fluttering like moths as she beat out an impressive series of battements despite being flat on her back, answered with the exaggerated enunciation of someone who is drunk to the gills but intent upon maintaining their dignity.
"Yes." she said. "Yes. This... this.. what? Is the gas called. That is here on my face?"
The dentist said, "Well, some people call it laughing gas. Or nitrous oxide... ."
She pounced on this, "Yes! Nitrous. Oxide. Yes! When. Do. Youthink? The. Nitrous. OXide. Will. Be. In my sssssystem?"
He laughed and said, "Sweetie, I am pretty sure it is in your system right now."
"Ah," she said owlishly, "I thank you" and placed the nose mask over her eyes. He slid it back into place and started to work on her tooth.
So now we know if Caroline ever gets into the creme de menthe she will morph into Winston Churchill.