This face is beautiful. The gap only makes it better. We’ve been having a rough time of it lately, him and I. He can be, how can I say this nicely, difficult. So, yesterday, after a rough morning, which followed a rough bed time, a dentist visit was probably the last thing he wanted.
The hygienist asked me, as she usually does, if I had any concerns. I did. A very loose front tooth that was not only causing him intermittent pain, but also, at times, preventing him from eating lunch.
As fate would have it, we just happened to get the one hygienist, who seems to really enjoy pulling wiggly teeth, almost a little too much, if you know what I mean.
She asked Second Son if she could use some numbing gel and remove it. He said, “NO!” Not the answer she was expecting.
So, she went on with the cleaning, poking and prodding away every chance she got, loosening it up even more. Again, she asked Second Son, if she could pull it. He said, “No!”
She then suggested that she show him how to wiggle it out on his own. Following her instructions, he touched it and said, “Oh, great, now it’s really loose.” He was not very pleased. He knew that it only meant more pain.
Throughout all this cleaning and wiggling, while Second Son was distracted by the tv, miss tooth puller, was also talking to me, assuring me that if she pulled it, it wouldn’t hurt any more than a single strand of hair being pulled from the head. So, despite Second Son’s protests, I quietly gave her the go ahead.
It was over before he knew it, BUT, it wasn’t quite as easy as she made it sound. He yelled, “Ow!” and then he cried. So much for her magical numbing gel.
Don’t get me wrong, I think it was for the best. Thirty seconds of pain is far better than a few more weeks of pain, not being able to brush, or eat. But, had I known there were going to be tears, I would have definitely said, no.
I’m pretty sure nurse, likes to pull the teeth, may have underplayed the pain in order to satisfy her tooth pulling fetish. My suspicions were only confirmed after the dentist came in and remarked that our particular hygienist loved wiggly teeth. The way he said it, though, didn’t exactly make me feel like he was thrilled with what she had done, especially after seeing Second Son’s tear stained face.
She started to explain herself, seeming befuddled, and a little annoyed, at being labeled as a wayward tooth fairy, but then stopped and said, “Well, that one was all on mom.”
We stopped at Dunkin Donuts (so completely wrong after getting ones teeth cleaned) on the way home. I think, at least, hope, all is forgiven.