Having just watched last week's Office episode (classic, by the way), I just walked upstairs to put the temperamental toddler to bed. I found our sickly 6 year-old on the couch, most likely fleeing the annoyance of Georgia, and right next to her I found Georgia.
No biggie. We have an open relationship with the surfaces in our house that accomodate a body for rest. However, said six-year-old is hiding her tooth (which the Tooth Fairy didn't replace last night), under her throw pillow, in a tin. I was going to delegate this one to The Chief, but I'll step up (with a cloth to dull the "tink, tink, tink" of the tooth), and handle this.
