I have had a lot of nightmares recently about losing teeth. I've been on an oral hygiene kick recently, and I'm not sure if the nightmares are causing this or if my attention to clean teeth are resulting in a fear of losing them all. I am reminded of the horrible fact that at one point in my life, tiny bone fragments from my tiny skull fell out of my mouth and I got paid for it. I remember how awesome it felt to have a tooth in my mouth that flapped with every breath I took.
And then I remember how terrifying it was when I had to come to grips with it being pulled from my body. It was an exhausting ride. I remember having to psych myself up to actually get to a point where I was emotionally ready to pull a tooth out of my face. It was basically just like 127 Hours. But there was a time when I didn't know those horrors. Back when I had all my baby teeth.
One day at my Nana and Papa's house in Skokie my brother, dad and I were playing a rousing game of Power Rangers. I took a leap off of the sofa just as my dad pretended to punch me in the face. I landed swiftly into his fist and out popped my first tooth.
Not knowing the side effects of losing a tooth, I was paralyzed in horror when I saw the amount of blood coming from my mouth. I thought that my Dad was trying to kill me. And then I wondered why the Power Rangers never bled.
As for the rest of my baby teeth, I just remember a thinly veiled annoyance from my mother over my severe fear of a new bloodpit in my mouth. Kudos, Mom... I really can't imagine talking or helping a kid through losing a tooth. At all. I guess that having a tooth punched out during a game of Power Rangers is a pretty sweet alternative to a wet, bloody kleenex being shoved in your mouth.
