the tooth

It had been well over two weeks since we first noticed the wiggle of ripen tooth ready for extraction. This was going to be a first for both of us. I had never pulled out anyone else’s teeth and it had been decades since my own teeth were plucked from their nests and replaced with whiter yet more crooked doppelgangers (that would later require a year or two of orthodontics to correct and thankfully did not require painful headgear in the process. I am eternally grateful). Our older son had lost only one tooth at our house and although we have pictures of the event, I can not recall how said tooth finally broke free.

Yes, it had been two weeks since we first noticed the first significant wiggle although we had suspected this tooth was about to defect from its compatriots a month prior. It started with pain in his jaw, pointing to the interior part of his gum where the inside of bottom lip is attached to his jaw. Then, he complained of a wiggle – the kind that only he could feel yet was not visible to the naked eye. The sort of pain that is frustrating, and probably the most painful process of them all where the internal tooth is trying sprout and attempts to eject its brother from the shared socket. In the case of this tooth, the internal tooth got tired of waiting and decided to become a trail blazer and create its own path behind the existing tooth thereby stalling the progress of evicting the tooth above it.

For two weeks we have been flossing daily, trying to get under the tooth far enough to give it the ole heave-ho. I even tried my Mom’s trick of pulling on “2”, as in “Ready…. 1……. 2(pull)…..3!” The obvious problem to that technique is it only works once. It wasn't budging. It just wasn’t loose enough and I wasn’t willing to test my son’s pain threshold enough to mess with it more than he was willing to allow. My husband even worked on it for about a half hour one night, making a game of it which had my son inventing “noises” that a tooth would make if it could speak and let us know that it was ready. I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing but I imagine it involved small repetitions of the wiggle/wiggle/pull technique.

Fast forward to Saturday (1/30/11 08:35 PM to be exact), my 16 year old stepson decided that he wanted a go at it. My initial response was “Better you than me!” Drew had grown tired of me hurting him over the course of the past two weeks. Oddly, it somehow seemed more acceptable to all parties involved for his brother to do it. I heard Drew say “I hope this doesn’t hurt.”, as he walked into the kitchen with his brother. On the surface, it seems admirable for a 16 yr old to participate in an activity that could potentially create so much pain in a little brother that he swears to “never forgive you forever and ever”. He seemed undaunted by this. I have a feeling that there was some retribution involved since earlier in the day Drew had found it amusing to punch his older brother in the, as Drew calls it, “tender box”, then proceeding to laugh himself silly from causing his older brother so much pain. I slightly feared for Drew’s safety yet part of me wanted to go get the video camera. I deduced that it would be best if I just didn't watch.

After several loud OOOOWW’s and STOP IT!!!’s I went into the kitchen to see the younger brother almost in tears while the older brother commandeered a piece of string (by which, for the life of me, I can not figure out where he got it from). He was going to try the ole tooth-tied-to-the-doorknob trick. When asked if he had any experience with said trick he responded “Uhh, no.” I went in there on a rescue mission but I was also disappointed that the deed had not been done. I wanted someone to get me off the hook on this one. I wanted it to be over and I had more than accepted the fact that it would be OK if I didn't have a hand in it. I knew that once the tooth was out, Drew would be in a lot less pain and I could have my semi-darling son back. That was not the case.

He was rather upset at this point so I took him into our bathroom and set him on the counter. I told him I wasn’t going to pull it I just wanted to look at it and see what had happened, a post-mortem review of sorts. He was panic stricken. In retrospect, I think he too was disappointed that the tooth had not come out. I think he was hoping his brother would come to his rescue with his magical teenage brother powers and yank it out without a whimper and send him on his way.

I asked Drew “Are you OK? You feel hot?” partly to distract him from the tooth and partly to put his mind in a state of submission. I knew that the phrase “You feel hot” always prompted him to slump down, sniffle and say “No Mama, I think I’m feeling bad” and request hugs, kisses and pity- his just deserts. He did exactly as I expected he would as I swiped his forehead with the thermometer, which registered only a 98.7 but resulted in my gratuitous exclamation of “Awwwww,” followed by a hug, a kiss and lots of pity. I asked him to show me his loose tooth as I got out the dreaded dental floss. He cringed initially but I calmed his fears by saying “Let me see how bad it is, I won’t pull on it.” I was able to wiggle the dental floss almost completely under the entire tooth this time. It was soooo ready. One good sneeze could have sent it flying. He moaned in pain. His brother went into the kitchen to get the salt water he had prepared earlier from his own attempt at extraction; I assume he went to get it now because he thought it would help with the pain. Upon his return (and subsequent distraction to Drew) I knocked something off of the counter and “accidentally” gave the nested dental floss a quick tug during the chaos.

In all honestly, I did not expect it to work. I let out a surprised “OH!!” as the tooth flew out of his mouth and onto the floor. My husband yelled “Nobody move!” and got down on the tile to commence tooth recon. In nervous laughter, my son turned around to look at himself in the mirror and saw a mouth full of blood. Cue the salt water! “Good timing big brother!” I said as I grabbed the glass and began pouring it into Drew’s bloody mouth. As to be expected, he began to panic when he saw that first mouthful of salty, bloody water in the sink. I assured him that it would stop and all he had to do was stay calm and keep rinsing. “I found it!!” his Dad exclaimed jumping up from the floor with the tooth pinched between his fingers.

Eventually, Drew became calm and the water began to run clear again. He smiled at himself in the mirror, introducing his brain to his new reflection. He then began to contort his face in the mirror to see the divot left behind by his fallen tooth. He could now clearly see his new tooth that was hidden behind the first. We all laughed as he experimented with spitting water through the hole, sticking his tongue into it, and attempting to whistle through it. It brought back so many memories. I was suddenly transported back to my own childhood. I was so proud for him. He was so very happy.

He could not wait for the tooth fairy to come. He wondered how much he would get for his first tooth (and so did we). Once he settled down, we lay in bed and watched Star Wars. Star Wars always seems to make everything better. He put his tooth in the tooth pillow his Memaw got for him years ago, before he even had teeth, and he drifted off to sleep.

The following morning I was sitting in the kitchen drinking my morning coffee and reading the paper when I heard a shout from the bedroom, “MOM!!!!...... SHE CAME!!!!” I remember closing my eyes so tightly as if to burn that memory into my brain. It was like Christmas morning, only better. It was HIS special day and no one else's. I sat there a moment and let it sink in. This was one I wanted to remember for a lifetime. Then he ran into the kitchen, money clenched in his fist, “I got a dollar!!” he said as he unclenched the folded bill to show me. He then added “NO!.... I got 5 dollars!!! It has Abraham Lincoln on it! What’s this on the back?” he asked. I responded “That is the Lincoln Memorial.” He studied the bill as if it was the first one he had ever seen. I asked “Is your tooth gone?” He paused for a moment and answered in a curious voice “I don’t know.” I guess in all the excitement of finding money he never thought to find out if the tooth was gone or not. He told me that the tooth fairy must have taken it because he collects the teeth and restores them for his collection. “The tooth fairy is a HE now?” I asked. He surmised that boys get boy toothfairies. I’m thinking it has something to do with a certain movie he remembered seeing the commercials for.

It’s moments like this that make me so proud to be a Mom. To be able to experience the world all over again through the eyes of your child is truly a wonderful gift. I am so grateful that it happened while he was home with us and not at school (and accidentally swallowed the tooth at lunch time). I am grateful that his big brother was there and will be part of that memory for him. I am glad his Dad was there too and found the tooth. I am glad it didn’t hurt too much. I am glad that he was able to enjoy those first few moments of his missing tooth with his family by his side. I am glad we were there to experience his joy with him.