I am not a tooth puller. Never have been. I can remember having a loose tooth, so loose that it literally was hanging and I would freak out if anyone came near it. My parent’s would get so mad because I would just let it hang until the adult tooth was practically growing into it and then the dentist would have to pull it. This would be funny if it was a one time thing, but I’m fairely confident that the dentist had to pull at least 5 of them.
It was awful.
I hated pain.
Someone should’ve told the bawling little 7-year-old back in ’92 that a little tooth pain was nothing compared to the insanity of bringing a child into the world. Humph.
Anyway…it seems that Brooks has inherited my “love” of losing a tooth.
(I just remembered when we were all dressed up to go to my brother’s final adoption and I had a loose tooth. Grandmother was begging me to let her pull it because she was the tooth queen and I pitched a fit. Like, throwing myself all over the place kind of fit. I think she ended up getting a hold of it while we were sitting on the bench outside the courtroom. My dress also had a collar the size of our Astro Van. With lace. I blame Dj Tanner)
Brooks had been complaining of a loose tooth for about a week. He wouldn’t let anyone near him and I don’t blame him. Losing something out of your face is traumatic, no matter how old you are! You have been taught your whole life to take care of your teeth because you will need them when you are older, and then they just expect you to handle losing one of them with grace and dignity. Ain’t happenin’ folks!
My mother in love got the privilege of taking care of the loose tooth when Brooks was eating lunch and freaked the heck out because the said tooth was literally hanging by a gum thread. (never understood how that happens btw)
I have a video of the pulling but this stupid computer won’t let my upload it. The picture of his tear-stained face says most of it though. Poor baby! I even cried with him. It was like living the summer of ’92 all over again…except this time I was sporting a normal sized collar.
That is one scary, sparkly fingernail.
My biggest baby is growing up.
I’m not ready for all this!