Sometimes I just sit and look at Elijah and think, “My Lord
is that child beautiful. He’s like an angel.”
And then he opens his mouth.
Yeesh that place is a horror show. It’s a crazy jigsaw
puzzle of baby teeth fighting to the death with his adult teeth.
A few weeks ago Diana took the boys to the dentist and he
informed us that one of Eli’s new front teeth was coming in behind his baby
tooth, so we had to work a little harder to wiggle the old one out.
As the weeks progressed, the old tooth moved around his
face, desperately trying to hang on. It protruded from his gums in a horrifying
angle. And he began to take on a distinct rabbit/”Deliverance” appearance.
I begged him to let me yank it out, but he would scream and
run from the room.
I would grab him and say, “I love you Eli! I LOVE you!” And
then I’d hug him roughly, burying his face into my stomach in an attempt to
dislodge the tooth. But my fat gut was too forgiving.
Over Christmas, I asked my oral surgeon brother to do the
deed. His eyes lit up and he grabbed some rusty tools from his doctor bag with
a maniacal laugh. Eli managed to stay on the other side of the house from him
for the entire celebration.
But why ask an uncle to do the job of a little brother? In
the end, it was Luca’s elbow that knocked the tooth out in a blaze of bloody
glory.
Unlike Costa Rica, where the Tooth Fairy left $20 because
she messed up the currency conversion, he got $4.
Which he immediately spent on
candy.
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