Tooth for Toys

Once upon the week before Christmas, this time last year, we were taking kiddo to see Santa. But there was a problem…

See kiddo had been losing her teeth at such a rate, that I had felt the need to make a joke about her only being able to eat soup. Being a hater of soup, this fate terrified her. So, inn a desperate attempt not to have a liquid-only diet, she refused to pull, or even so much as wiggle her top front tooth.

As a result, the tooth had basically rotted in her mouth, turned gray, and was holding on by one feeble root. Kiddo is adorable, but there was a central incisor zombie inside her mouth. Not quite dead; not quite alive.

This wasn’t really an issue until the day of the Santa picture. We had decided that it would fall out on its own, and that would be that. But, after dressing her in her Christmas outfit, and curling her hair, kiddo stood in the mirror admiring herself…and smiled.

“Holy shit!” John says to me, “We can’t let her have her picture taken with that tooth! DCF will take her away for neglect.”

He was right. Kiddo looked like she was Photo #1 in Faces of Meth. So we did the only thing parents could do when trying to avoid photographical evidence of dental neglect: we threatened to not let her visit Santa until she pulled the tooth out.

Obviously, in hindsight, this was a traumatic plan. Poor kiddo was faced with pain and soup in order to have toys on Christmas.

“We’re not going until you pull that tooth.”

“But it’ll hurt me!”

“No it won’t. It’s only being held in there by spit anyway. Pull it!”

“Nooooooooooooo!”

“Pull it or no Santa!”

Yes, I know…we’re horrible people. In fact, we ended up just yanking the tooth out of her mouth the next time she opened it to protest. And by “we” I mean me. John is squeamish. But he whispered the idea to me.

So, with tooth out, we headed to the mall to visit Santa. We’re happy because the zombie tooth has been taken care of; kiddo is happy because she gets to see Santa.

Only, kiddo’s excitement is tempered by the fear of impending soup. So she does the only thing a 6 year old with a problem can do: she asks Santa to bring her teeth for Christmas so she can eat regular food and not just soup like Mommy said she would have to.