I suggested a string on the door. She declined. Her little sister offered a swift karate chop, but she wanted no part of it.

The moment played out in slow motion like a great sports movie. But instead of a trophy, this movie ended with a freshly plucked tooth being hoisted in the air.

My wife, kids and I cheered like we had just won the Super Bowl. It was one of those Sundays.

When you become a parent, a lot less grosses you out. Being thrown up on a bunch of times will harden a person. Still, as my 6-year-old worked her loose front tooth, it made me a little squeamish.

"Please stop, I'm going to throw up," I said one night.

"But look, I can move it all the way around in the circle," she mumbled as her tongue got in the way.

She had been working on it long enough friends, neighbors and family had offered to yank it out. I suggested a string on the door. She declined. Her little sister offered a swift karate chop, but she wanted no part of it.

"Just let me get it for you," my wife pleaded one night. Again, she declined.

Later that night, as I made dinner, I could see her shadow cast from the bathroom to the hallway. When I went to check on her, she admitted that it hurt really bad, and she just wanted it out. I offered one more time, and she accepted. But as I got a good grip on her little tooth, she pulled away.

"No, I can do it," she said. And I realized this was one of those moments I often have trouble getting my head around. I always try to solve problems, even ones that aren't my business to solve. It's a flaw that is both a good and bad part of my personality. But I'm trying. So, I looked at her in the mirror and put my hands on her shoulders. "This is your thing," I said. "But I'm here for you. For whatever you need."

We all decided we would be there to root her on, but she was in control. I returned to cooking dinner, my wife was folding clothes, and our 3-year-old was perfecting her dance moves. Occasionally, she would dance by the bathroom and check on her sister.

"Mom, daddy, get in here!" our youngest screamed. We all gathered around the sink, but the tooth wasn't ready to come out. So we returned to what we were doing.

A few moments later, my wife, peeking in, called to me. "Dave, get in here!" We ran in. But nothing happened.

This went on for about a half an hour. None of us were going to miss this moment. We all had our roles. My wife ran the camera, our youngest cheered her sister, and I dispatched tooth-pulling advice like "crank it good!" and "wrench it harder!"

All of our stomachs turned. And I definitely burned dinner.

My daughter was pale. She looked miserable but determined. This thing was coming out one way or another.

Finally, with a twist, the tooth popped. And we exploded. We jumped in the air, screamed and hugged her. All the dogs in the neighborhood started barking.

With a big grin, she showed off the gap in front teeth. We were all so relieved and proud.

As she admired her tooth, she wondered out loud, "what do you think the Tooth Fairy needs all these teeth for?"

Reach Dave at david.manley@cantonrep.com or 330-580-8490. On Twitter: @DaveManley