Mothering – Wise Teeth

ImageMy darling youngest is in the surgery as I write this entry getting her bottom two wisdom teeth ripped out of her jaw. Two, not four, because her she only has three and her third one is somewhere up around her eyeball. Fortunately they don’t want to mess with that. Her regular orthodontist explained this anomaly to us after veering off into a diatribe about how there are tooth-like projections in women’s uteruses – uteri? – imagine us blinking like Bambi on an airstrip – penis-biting uteri anyone?

The dental surgeon is one of the best. He’s kind and very competent, but the ordeal is stressing nonetheless. Strong, independent and brilliant as she is, if anyone is going to get sick or suffer more than the others in our family, it is darling Jen. So I am quashing nerves in the anticipation of being strong, comforting Mom as soon as she’s done. Her sister cried after her wisdom teeth were pulled and the surgeon just told me to expect the same for Jen.

ImageIs it reckless of me to want really good drugs for my daughter post-surgery? It’s invasive and painful enough, at least she could have a good time for a little while, right? I mean, you saw that YouTube video of the girl on Ellen who sang about unicorns and blueberries and demanded “who’s in the house (J.C.)?” while floating after her surgery.

Wouldn’t you want that for your daughter or son? Of course you would…

Oh, it’s over.

Got to go run and coddle.






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