It was a common scenario. Eating dinner and having a shotgun conversation with my husband.
Me: “How was your day?”
Middle son: “Daddy, I want a drink.”
Husband: “It was OK.”
Middle son: “Daddy, I don’t want water. I want milk.”
Youngest son: Getting out of his chair and almost breaking a bone as he stumbles to the floor.
Husband: “Drink your water, son. That’s what I got for you.”
Husband (to the youngest son): You need to ask if you can be all done.
Youngest son: “All done please.”
Husband: “OK, you can be all done.”
Me: “So what happened?”
Oldest son: “Can I have more food?”
Husband: “Uh…..” as he gets up and finds the peanut butter and bread.
Middle son: “I drank my water. Now can I have milk?”
It was about then that we heard the scream.
Our youngest has recently discovered he can go into the bathroom and wash his hands.
If you can’t find him, chances are he is in front of a spewing faucet and a pool of water all over the floor.
Except this time he found us.
When I met him midway between the kitchen and the bathroom my worries were confirmed. I saw blood. Quite a lot, actually.
I’m still not sure how he fell, but I think it had something to do with water and slippery tile.
At first my main goal was to stop the bleeding and not ruin my new T shirt in the process (yes, the pathetic truth).
Then I tried to calm him down.
And after that, I examined to see just how bad the damage was.
Me: “Um, hon? Could you have a look at Elijah’s tooth?”
To me, one of his front two teeth looked like we lost a year in the teething department.
But since I’m often emotional and less than rational when it comes to my children and health issues, I sent him off to my husband for inspection without further comment.
Husband: “Yeah, it looks like it’s not sticking out as far as it used to.”
My heart sank.
Me: “Let me go online and see if that can actually happen.”
I don’t know what it says about me that I have to read it online before I can believe what I’m seeing.
Husband: “Well obviously it can.”
Ignoring that comment, I started searching.
Apparently it’s known as tooth intrusion and it happens with some regularity to kids ages 1 to 3.
I’ll just have to add that to the list “things I know now that I have kids.”
Good news is that it looks like his tooth intruded less than 3 millimeters, so he probably won’t have to have it pulled and caps put on.
Let’s all breath a sigh of collective relief.
The thought of what it would be like to sit with my 2 year old at the dentist while he got that kind of work done, is, shall we say, overwhelming.
Now I’m praying that those teeth reverse course and pop on back out, a process that hopefully won’t take more than a month.
Anyone want to join?