The sight of blood has never really bothered me until last night. That’s when Zoe decided to pull one of her teeth that was loose, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t quite ready to come out yet.

She’s kind of a freak about losing her baby teeth, actually. Maybe it’s a sign of growing up for her, I don’t know, but if there’s a loose tooth in her head she is absolutely obsessed with getting it out. She asks for apples in her lunch because biting into them makes the loose tooth move, she wiggles it constantly, she worries over it like a mother hen — everything revolves around getting that tooth out of her mouth. You’d have to admire the dedication if it wasn’t so dental.

Anyway, last night she finally vanquished the latest poor loose tooth. I found her in the kitchen bent over the sink, paper towel in hand to help get a grip on the tooth, and spitting blood like a skewered teen in a Halloween movie. There was so much blood in the sink and it was so crimson against the white porcelain that it actually gave my stomach a little lurch. And because I’m a giver, I took pictures for you.

Preparing to spit even more blood.

Bloody towel and tooth.

The gap-tooth smile.

My kid has a bright future ahead of her, as either a dentist or surgeon … or vampire.