Mandatory tooth departure
Approximately 4 weeks ago, Vincent was the victim of tooth departure. And in regular fashion, it was dramatic as possible. That’s how we roll, yo! Straight up drama all the time m-fers!
Cue flashback music, imagine Wayne and Garth and visualize yourself at DisneyWorld. Sweating. And with an overexcited 5 year old.
We decided to go rather last-minute and Vincent suggested Hollywood Studios. That was cool. We dig Star Wars and the few other rides short people can do. Plus it’s a fun place to walk around. And, surprising, was not as busy as we were expecting.
So we hit the pavement and aimed for some character meetings. I love Hollywood Studios specifically for the indoor air conditioning. And the Fantasia Mickey Mouse that is hanging out, waiting to high-five all of your kids.
Eleanor and I waited in line, Vince and Daddy hit up Wreck It Ralph. As we left, it started to rain and we ducked into a gift shop. And it rained for quite awhile. And as you do at Disney, you are suddenly best friends with all the other people in the shop doing the same. And all those people were watching Eleanor snuggling and sighing over every stuffed animal. Literally. And figuratively. To the point where people were exclaiming “Oh! Well you have to buy that now!!!!” (Meanwhile, Mike and Vince bought rock candy and just didn’t mention it)
The rain stopped, we headed over to the Star Wars area. And by that, I mean I went to buy beer and the boys went to ride Star Wars. Wallet out, buying pints and suddenly my beer purchasing is interrupted by some quiet shouting:
“Vincent just shattered a tooth. He’s bleeding. Everywhere. We have no pediatric dental coverage. What the f should we do.”
And so juggling beer that I could no longer drink, while pushing Eleanor’s stroller, I headed towards the sounds of my husbands frantic voice and my blood smeared son. We switched kids. I looked in Vincent’s mouth, where it looked like one of his front teeth had indeed shattered. And so I did probably what any normal person would do.
Which obviously was pick up your child and practically run to the front of the park where the first aid building was and speak to the RN on staff.
And wouldn’t you know it, after cleaning his mouth up and examining the ‘shattered’ tooth it became clear that it was a loose tooth. A really loose tooth, that had become partially dislodged while Vince was eating rock candy. And was turned slightly to the side, hence it’s shattered appearance.
Suddenly I felt rather like a total psycho. The RN was giving me a covert side-eye (I had, after all, requested some information about *maybe submitting a claim with Disney for damages. And in my imagination, Vincent had some expensive dental surgery, some implants and I sued Disney for a million dollars and quit my job.)
Ok, maybe I am a psycho…
And so, Vince and I returned to where we had left the rest of the family. I drank a beer, rode the Star Wars ride and we drove home 2 exhausted children and 2 exhausted parents.
Approximately 24 hours later, Vincent pulled out his own tooth with his bare hands. BARE HANDS. Like he was wrestling a bear or something. He was SO proud. I was kind of grossed out, despite having done the exact same thing myself when I was younger.
Psycho Mum, signing off…