Yesterday I was nibbling on a fingernail (gross, I know, but it's a habit) and suddenly my bottom incisor crumbled. I looked at my finger and there were three or four chunks of tooth perched on the tip. My tongue involuntarily found the now jagged incisor, and my eyes widened with dismay. I took off to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to confirm the disaster. I had no idea teeth could do that.
Later that night we were babysitting three boys for a family I home teach. In my opinion, you're not being a good babysitter unless you get a little rowdy with the kids, so of course I didn't oppose them tearing all the cushions and pillows off the couch to dive into. Things were going fine until the four year old jumped onto the two year old and smashed his mouth. Within seconds he was bawling and I was trying to access the damage. His gums were bleeding a little, and the more I tried to help him the more he screamed. Just then his grandmother arrived, and hearing his screams, began pounding on the door and shouting his name. We opened the door and she rushed into the room shouting, "What happened?" and wrapping her arms around the unfortunate kid. This lady was something else. She was your classic social worker who probably needs a social worker, and she certainly didn't help deescalate the situation. She kept making references to his tooth falling out or breaking off, which only intensified his crying. "He's going to have to see the orthodontist or get a root canal!" she howled. My wife rushed to the store to buy some popsicles while I stayed with the lunatic grandma and child, trying to calm them both down. In the end the popsicles were an inspired idea, and the moment he got one in his mouth, the floodgates turned off and he said, "My tooth doesn't hurt anymore." Talk about theatrics.
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2 weeks ago