Went to the dentist this morning and was advised to have my wisdom tooth extracted. Decided to do it on the spot before return of the terrible toothache that felt like radiation of my left mouth, so bad I couldn't tell where the pain originated.
It's interesting that every time I'm subjected to the tyranny of dental equipment, I'd be thinking to myself: "You gave birth to your two kids without epidural - surely this is nothing!"
Then I would be wondering how Calder can take such assault to his sensitive nerves. And I'd imagine myself taking the pain on his behalf: "Ok, this is for you, Calder!" (I never have to worry about Ethel because she is stoic - amazingly brave since small - when it comes to dentistry.)
Of course, there'd be lots of prayers going on in my head as well: "Oh Lord, let me not be afraid. Give me peace. Let the dentist do just the right thing and not injure other parts of my mouth. Let Calder not have to suffer such pains...."
Well, that's how I got through my dental treatment, every time.
When Calder came back from school, I showed him my extracted tooth (already cleaned with vinegar).
"What is this, Calder?"
"Walnut."
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