Let’s play a little game, shall we? For this game, I’m going to show you a picture and you’re going to tell me what’s wrong with it. Are you ready? Here we go.
Can you spot it? No? Maybe you need a comparison.
Ah, now you see it, don’t you? It’s the teeth. The photo in the blue shirt was taken over the summer. The top photo in the green shirt was taken on Monday morning–roughly 18 hours after a certain someone slipped on the concrete floor and broke his two front teeth. His two front permanent teeth, mind you. Sigh.
When I was pregnant with him I heard the same thing from several sources: boys are harder when they’re little but easier when they’re teens. When I questioned it further, I was told that little boys are–how should I put it–rough on faint-hearted mamas because they tend to get hurt. A lot. Worlds different than their more cautious female counterparts who opt out of roughhousing and daredevil stunts in favor of playing a quiet (read: safe) game of Candyland instead.
Case in point? See above.
I’m sure there are plenty of little girls who would give my fearless boy a run for his money, but the three girls I raised are not included in that grouping. And I can’t say I’m disappointed.
We spent much of Sunday afternoon on the phone with the dentist and the endodontist. When we weren’t doing that, we were nervously waiting to see what might happen. The non-squeamish amongst us had to closely inspect the teeth to check for exposed nerve and bleeding while the inherently squeamish amongst us stood at a far distance, wincing at the sight of a tooth mark etched into our concrete floor–the telltale dust of chipped tooth scattered around.
It was not a good day.
Now we wait. The dentist adhered two temporary fillings to even things out while we wait to see if the trauma was severe enough to cause nerve death. While that is yet to be determined, it’s safe to say that the trauma was most definitely severe enough to cause anxious nerves for a certain mother. Ahem.
He’s only eight. I fear a nervous breakdown before he reaches high school. Mothers of boys, please tell me this gets easier.