“I have a cavity in my mouth!” she announced, elated.
“You do?” I couldn’t suppress a smile. The contrast between the child’s delight and the mom’s anguish was too funny.
“Yeah,” the girl expounded, lisping all the way. “It’s a hole! The dentist has a special magic mirror for my teeth and she looked all over and she said I have a cavity.”
“Wow,” I managed and raised an eyebrow at the mom, who nodded solemnly.
“Next week,” the mother sighed. “I’m not looking forward to it …”
I understood why. This little girl could raise roofs at the mere sight of needles. Just ten days prior the mom had shared with me her mortification at the horrified looks people had given her when she’d emerged with her child from a routine blood draw. “Everyone in that waiting room must have been convinced we were slicing her in pieces,” the mom had vented. “I can’t believe they hadn’t all called Child Protective Services or 911.”
“Laughing gas …” I mouthed.
The mom inhaled and shrugged and nodded all in one. Skeptical and perhaps a little hopeful.
“Not next week,” the child pointed out. “Tonight!”
The mom and I exchanged looks.
“What do you mean, tonight?” the mother asked. “Doc Dee said she’ll see us after lunch next Tuesday.”
“Yeah,” the little girl waved this information away. “But I have a cavity,” she stressed. “So the Tooth Fairy is going to get it first.”
She opened her mouth to give us both a good look before turning to me. “I don’t know why the dentist needed a magic mirror,” she added and her voice rose in puzzlement. “I can see my cavity right away already.”
She held her mouth agape and pointed to a newly lost incisor. “See? It’s right here.”
For The Daily Post