A much-anticipated visitor arrived in L’s mouth this morning: Her first tooth.

Powergirl and I had been suspecting incisor emergence for some time; over the last week or so, the baby inexplicably has been waking up in the middle of the night and has been drooling like a maniac.

Still, when the two of us spotted the little white bugger on L’s pink gums, we were thrilled to say the least.

For Powergirl, the discovery was particularly sweet—she’s an archaeologist, and has studied (thousand-year-old) teeth for the better part of the last decade. She has threatened to keep L’s teeth when they fall out to conduct isotopic analyses on them. She also has a science-nerd book on her shelf titled, simply, “Teeth.” (Of course I make fun of her for this relentlessly).

Anyway, I celebrated L’s first tooth by running out to the local Longs Drugs to buy a bunch of those teething rings you stick in the freezer. Because I’m neurotic, I froze the suckers immediately, and enlisted them this afternoon.

The rings made everyone happy. L clearly loved the way they soothed her aching gums. And Powergirl and I cracked up at how cold they made her little lips.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the pain and horror of teething will wipe away any ooohing and aaahing we might be doing now. Still, in a house that values teeth for a variety of reasons, it’s nice to be able to reach this important milestone.