Brave Boy

We noticed some time ago that chubbocks was getting a funny grey mark in between his two front teeth. His teeth are amongst the cutest things about him, so this came as a rude shock and we thought it might be caries, whatever they are. Hauled him off to the neighbourhood dentist, and lo and behold, the little guy had a cavity. The dentist was pretty surprised that he would get a cavity there, but he sure had'em, and the only solution was to clean them out and get them filled in.

In our abysmal ignorance, we asked, "But those are milk teeth. Can't we just wait for them to fall off?" Nope - it turned out milk teeth last until age 7 or 8 so chubbocks had to go through the torture chamber all right.

A took him on the weekend for the cleaning, which left a nice cavity-and-lactobacillus-acidophilae-sized hole between the two teeth. Chubbocks's nice friends were calling him hole-in-the-teeth all of Monday at school Monday evening was my turn to take him to the dentist. I talked up a big game, 'Be brave', and 'it won't hurt a bit'. Chubbocks went smiling in to sit on the rack and I sat all trembly-faced in a corner, watching the goings on. Everey time the dental assistant came close to chubbocks, the little guy would protest and say, "I don't like it." So eventually the assistant was promoted to position of hanger-on and I was the de-facto assistant, which basically consisted of holding chubbocks upper lip off his teeth ( with a cotton pad) and cheerleading him through the process. At one point the dentist turned to me and said, "You should be a teacher or a counselor", as a compliment to my persuasive powers. I was mighty please, naturally, and chubbocks bravely underwent the ordeal so he now has two normal looking front teeth.

Of course, what I didn't tell chubbocks was just how much of a coward his mamma is. The last time I went to a dentist was some 8 years ago. Yes, yes, I know it's bad, but not as bad as having to sit in that chair. I needed a tooth drawn, so I sat in his chair while he prepared some fearsome looking anaesthetic injections. I heard the clacking of metal and saw all manner of sharp, pointy steel objects cluttering his chair. I was just contemplating runnign away to the wilds of the Amazon when the dentist poked his head inside my mouth - well, alright, not his whole head but something, and it hurt like crazy. I whimpered in pain, too scared to yell out loud.

"Is it hurting?" he asks gently.

"Yes", I nod.

"Where?"

"There, inside my jaw where you poked your needle in."

"I haven't touched your mouth with a needle yet - what I used just now was the mirror", said he caustically. Sure enough, that's all it was, the little rounded, bent-backed little dentist's mirror. You think I'm going to let my son know his mamma is such a wuss? How would it sound the next time I threaten to dismember him?

"If you don't finish you food I will rip you into shreds."

"If you rip me into shreds, I'll grow up and turn into a dentist!"

Ulp!!!