Cailey lost her first tooth today. And later in the day, her second. The two bottom teeth were finally evicted by the two impatient adult teeth emerging behind the baby teeth. The tooth fairy, frankly having had enough of the complaining, aided in the eviction as well. After the first of the two teeth was pulled, the remaining tooth moved over to the middle, giving her a snaggled smile. Only, there was no smiling. But instead, much complaining and wailing because she couldn’t eat anything.
Emme also had a bottom baby tooth which was ready to exit her already crowded gum line. In fact, it was so loose that it hung out of her mouth, even when her lips were closed. Giving her a rather rural appearance.
We have a tooth extraction rule here in the House of Fiddle that states clearly when the patient yells “OW!” the tooth puller must immediately cease with the pulling. Thusly, dragging out the tooth (or teeth) extraction much longer than is necessary.
This may not be a well known factoid, but “OW!” is just about the only thing you can audibly yell when someone has their hand in your mouth. Just ask my former orthodontist. Who now wears an athletic cup for good measure.
Frankly, I should be overjoyed that my children’s teeth are falling like rain. Because adult orthodontia is no fun at all. And I endured it only because I still had two baby eye teeth while I was firmly planted in my 40’s. And the adult teeth decided to make a late entrance. But the party was at full capacity, and there was no room.
In hindsight, my parents should have made good use of the pliers, and been done with it while I was still under their insurance.
Surgery followed. Then “chains” and braces. Upper and lower. Two cases of Extra-strength Tylenol. And then 2 years later, The Retainer.
Which I’m suppose to wear every night for the rest of my natural life.
Only, I’m a rebel and went 3 weeks without it. And am now paying the price.
I have teeth issues.
By the end of the day, I had extracted a total of three teeth from two very unwilling children. We lost a lot of blood, tissues, and five years from my life, but the evening was marked with celebration and anticipation of all the money that the tooth fairy would likely bring.
When she staggers in after a glass or seven of Port Wine.
When I was tucking them into bed tonight, there was some speculation as to what the tooth fairy actually looks like.
Cailey surmised that she had yellow hair, and wears a big pink dress with puffy sleeves. Oh. And pink high heels that match her hair band.
I could have told them that she goes barefoot, has bloodshot eyes, and wears a ratty t-shirt with a picture of a dead cow with his legs high in the air that reads, “Really, I’m fine.”
As I left the room, I heard Emme whisper, “MOM! I think I have another loose tooth.”
I wonder if I should first sterilize the pliers?