Kids look so much more grown-up when the baby teeth come out. Sheesh. It seems like yesterday they were cutting their way in, the devils, and we didn't go anywhere without a tube of Orajel and a tiny, pink, sticky bottle of infant Tylenol close at hand. Tonight I will tuck that tooth under Bright's Thomas the Tank Engine pillowcase, and then tomorrow I will throw it away. Baby teeth, like so many things in nature - the tide, the seasons, the hair on a man's head - point to the very brevity of our lives. Our days come in, and they go out.