Late this evening we had a tooth pull party. Liam has been walking around for two days with his second front tooth hanging by a gummy thread. He has been constantly wiggling it and grossing friends and family out with it. Amazingly when he shows the loose tooth off the feeling of what that was like is so vivid. A good deal of people sort of cringe. Another portion describe so clearly that feeling of the wiggle and the sharp little pain you get when you would give a loose tooth a tug. A feeling we all remember from being kids. That sharp little shooter up into the maxilla bone just under your nose causing a little recoil. Eventually I used that little recoil to get him to pull back and just pop the tooth out. He is now without two front teeth and has the classic little 6 year old kid look with a partially black smile.
Talking about the tooth all day had me thinking of all the toothy stories of my life. The most recent was that wonderful experience of the abscessed fractured root canal which may have been an alert to my leukemia and subsequent removal of the tooth. I would still like to hug that dental resident who spent almost two hours getting the last little piece out last year. I thought of other traumatic tooth moments. I remember the many teeth I had pulled because my mouth was to tight for the adult teeth coming in, the braces, the feeling of how slick your teeth really are after three years with braces, the times I did loose my teeth naturally, which seemed to be followed by good luck. I remembered poor Luke and all his trouble with his front tooth which he knocked out ice skating. That happened to be an adult tooth and required surgery, a post and repeated knocking outs before he seems to have decided not to lead with his face anymore.
I was quite lucky that I never knocked a tooth out. I saw some pretty gruesome tooth injuries through my childhood. I remember so clearly watching Geol Weber come screaming down the hill he lived on a bmx with a wide mouthed grin which was soon to change to screams and streams of blood. He had set up a sweet little plywood jump in his driveway, no landing spot or outrun of any sort. He had a decent in run to the jump which created enough speed to launch him into a small retaining wall they had. It was not pretty but it was memorable for all of us who were wide mouthed watching. I remember his face squarely hitting the wall and knowing instantly it couldn’t be good. I am constantly amazed he didn’t injure his brain (maybe he did but he does a good job covering it). I can still picture the bloody look he flashed us all as he rolled to his feet screaming. The rest of that day was sort of a blur. I remember he was whisked away down the hill further to the old hospital. I do not recall if he lost his two front teeth but I do remember he was pretty ugly for awhile and I recall that tooth fairy visit was lucrative for him although I doubt it was worth it.
That incident comes back to me quite frequently now that I have my own kids who love to bike. Luckily Liam isn’t to keen on jumping his bike and Finn doesn’t get any ideas from his older brother about it. I still wonder what unfortunate injuries they have up their sleeves for us in the future. I really hope nothing to drastic. We have had enough drama this last year. I will settle for these naturally occurring incidents of growing older. I think the cute thing is that he is still excited about the tooth fairy. I hope he is asleep now as I need to go swap out that cute little tooth for some money.
Head Up, Heart Strong. I need a cure.