Maddy is a Big Kid.

Tonight, after the Super Bowl, we were brushing Maddy's teeth and she decided that now would be a good time for me to pull her incredibly-loose bottom-front tooth. She cried about it, because she was scared, but she held her Daddy's hand and I pulled it.

It didn't take much pulling, and there it was, in the palm of my hand.

The tears stopped immediately and were replaced with a beaming, if a little soggy, smile and all the pride a five-year-old girl can muster.

There was a little blood, but we took care of that quickly and with a minimum of fuss. She couldn't quit looking at the new space in the mirror - the pride was just shining through that brand-new gap in her teeth.

"Next year," she says, "a new tooth will grow in. A big tooth. Next year."

"Sooner than that, I hope," I reply.

"And now, the Tooth Fairy is going to give me money." Money is a bit of an abstract concept to her right now. It's mainly something she puts in her piggy bank.

We looked around a little bit and found a black silk pouch that my grandmother had given me. It used to hold one of her necklaces - a piece of jewelry I'll always associate with her, because it was a signature item of hers for a long time. We put the tooth in the pouch, and put the pouch under her Cinderella pillow, close to the edge, so the Tooth Fairy won't have to root around under there for very long.

Then we called Grandma, and we called Nana and Maddy told them her news. Not so very long ago, we were calling so two-year-old Maddy could announce delightedly "I pee-pee on the potty!" Now she says with quiet pride: "My tooth was loose, and then it came out!"

In the morning, she'll find two Sacagawea gold dollars in the pouch under her pillow. I wanted to give her five dollars, but her dad said that he had gotten twenty-five cents per tooth, and inflation wasn't quite that bad. (We compromised at two.) Tomorrow, she'll show all her friends at pre-school her new dental profile. Tomorrow night, she'll show all her friends at band practice.

Tonight, I blink back some tears and try to hold on to my little girl. She's not-so-little anymore, and getting bigger faster than I can get myself ready.