Family Snippets - 12. Road To Ruin

There are many firsts in a person’s life: their first day of school, their first kiss, their first love, their first car, their first drink (hopefully not at the same time as their first car), their first house.

However, recent experiences lead me to believe that all of these pale into insignificance when compared to the complete and unbridled joy experienced when you first lose a tooth.

It started at 5:30am on a Saturday morning. Since I’d been out the night before with some friends, I was looking forward to have a sleep-in. In that slightly dazed state where I could hear what was being said without being able to consciously process it, I overheard the following conversation:

“Look, Mummy!”

“That’s fantastic, Colin. It won’t be long now.”

“Can I show Daddy?”

“Of course. He’s in bed still, so you’ll have to wake him up.”

That’s when I switched my mind on. I mentally started to prepare myself for the invasion of a six-year-old monster.

“Daddy,” came a polite whisper from next to me.

Reluctantly, I rolled over and opened an eye. Colin was grinning down at me.

“Hi, Colin,” I replied sleepily.

“Look at this!”

He reached into his mouth and started to rock his front tooth back and forth.

“Very good, Colin,” I replied with a yawn. “It’ll be out soon.”

“Mummy tried to pull it out with some pliers last night, but it hurt too much,” Colin informed me.

I looked up to see Janine standing in the door way. I think she saw my shocked expression.

“I used a pair of forceps,” she explained, “not pliers.”

I nodded. Being the daughter of a dentist, having access to useful things like forceps is a foregone conclusion. You never know when you want to pull someone’s tooth out, so forceps should be part of every home’s first-aid kit.

“Good anticipation,” I nodded approvingly.

“Actually, I got it for the horse,” she admitted sheepishly.

I opened my mouth while trying to work out how to express my horror that she used equipment for her horse on our son, but Janine got in first.

“It’s okay, I never got around to using it, so it’s still sterile.”

“Why do you want to pull your horse’s teeth out, anyway?”

“Oh, it wasn’t for that. They’re also great for cleaning his teeth.”

While I tried to make sense of that, my attention was drawn to Colin.

“See, Daddy!”

He was rocking the tooth with the forceps.

“It’s not coming out, though,” he added. His disappointment was obvious.

While Janine went out to look after her horse, without the forceps, Colin put on his serious face and looked down at me.

“Daddy, I don’t want to go to swimming today.”

“Why not?” I asked gently.

“What if my tooth comes out while I’m in the pool?”

His concern was obvious. This was a major issue that needed to be addressed. Putting aside my plans for solving world hunger, which I have to admit were not very advanced anyway, I moved onto something more important.

“It’ll be fine,” I replied soothingly. “It won’t come out. Don’t worry about it.”

What else could I do? I couldn’t guarantee his tooth wouldn’t come out during his swimming lesson, but he needed reassurance.

It took a few more minutes of gentle persuasion before Colin accepted my encouragement.

The tooth saga continued when Colin refused to have any breakfast because his loose tooth was causing problems with eating.

“Colin, eating a mango will help your tooth come out,” Janine told him.

“But it hurts my tooth!”

“That’s because it’s about to fall out,” she replied.

Needless to say, eating a mango, while an incredibly enjoyable task, did not result in Colin losing his tooth.

Afterwards, while Janine and I enjoyed a fresh pot of coffee and a pleasant chat, Colin came up to us and announced he was going to try to pull his tooth out again.

“Okay, honey,” Janine replied. “Just be careful.”

Colin headed to our bedroom, where he could use the full sized mirror to watch as he performed amateur dentistry on himself.

“It’s only the skin holding it on,” Janine remarked. “It won’t be long.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for him to be using those forceps?” I asked, getting anxious. I’m sure there’s a reason why dentists go through many years of education before they are allowed to pull teeth. While there have been many times when I haven’t been around to keep an eye on him, I had my doubts about whether or not Colin had been doing that level of training.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured me.

Suddenly, cries of joy erupted from our bedroom.

“Look! Look! It’s out!”

Colin came screaming out of the bedroom, with a smile only limited by the width of his face.

“Look!”

With all the pride and joy of a new parent, Colin thrust his tooth at us.

“Well done!” Janine said.

“Good on you,” I added, trying to muster some enthusiasm for a small white piece of something that could, I suppose, pass for a tooth.

“Would you like to ring Nanny and Grandpa?” she asked the proud little boy.

“Yes!”

Janine rang her parents. When they answered, she handed the phone to the boy of the moment.

“Grandpa, I lost a tooth!”

“I pulled it out myself!”

He listened for a moment.

“Grandpa, go get Nanny,” he ordered.

I was going to jump in and tell him to say “please”, but Janine held me back.

“Let him go. He’s so excited, we don’t want to spoil it,” she murmured.

A few minutes later, Colin hung up. “I’m going to see if I can pull another tooth out,” he announced as he headed back to our bedroom.

Alarmed, I started after him, only to be stopped by a hand on my arm.

“Let him go. He won’t be able to do anything, and he won’t hurt himself,” Janine said. “He’s just over the moon about finally losing that tooth.”

“On that subject, we need to make an appointment with the tooth fairy”

Janine stared down her nose at me.

“You’ve already organised it, haven’t you,” I said with a sinking feeling. I should’ve known better.

“Of course,” she said with a sniff.

“What’s the going rate today? One dollar? Two?”

She stared at me with disdain.

“I negotiated a discount rate. Fifty cents a tooth. You’ll go broke if you have to pay a dollar a tooth. Colin has a lot of teeth in that mouth of his.”

“Daddy, when can I lose a tooth too?” Andrew piped up.

I looked down at his upturned face.

“Can you please open your mouth, Andrew?” I asked him. “I want to check your teeth.”

Obligingly, he opened wide. I saw a lot of teeth.

“Not for a couple of years yet,” I replied. When he looked disappointed, I quickly added, “Don’t worry. It’ll happen when your teeth are good and ready. You don’t have to worry.”

Silently, I added to myself, “No, leave that to me.” I made a note to take out a loan from the bank. If I had to pay for each of those teeth, and Colin’s as well, I was in danger of being on the road to financial ruin.

People have told me that kids are expensive. I’d just found another reason why they’re right.