I won’t puke out of sympathy, I will just throw a bowl under your mouth and ram your face into it, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically. Obviously, I do not have a delicate stomach.
Something that is making my tummy churn is this seemingly endless requirement for me to pull teeth out of my daughter’s mouth. They’re so wobbly they’re bothering her, and she can’t cause herself intentional discomfort, so I get to twist and pull with a tissue until I hear that subtle sound, feel the fleshy separation, and hold a horror in my hand.
Did I ever consider becoming a dentist who does this for a living? No, because it’s gross and wrong. Teeth belong in mouths, and if it’s grown a furry little universe then I especially don’t want to know about it. When going through the good old job guide back in 1994 I skipped merrily past anything that involved looking inside people – through ANY orifice.
Beauty is all on the outside, thank you very much. And it certainly never squelches.
I come from a family with 9 children, and whenever a tooth stubbornly decided to stay put, it was Dad’s job to pull it out. According to Mum, he “had the strongest hands”.
Given that with one maturing child I’ve been responsible for 3 out of 4 extractions, I gotta say Dad must have pulled a lot of teeth.
Not only that, but every time my ear piercing was infected, crusty, stinky and oozing pus – it was Dad’s job to take the back off for me. Because he “had the strongest hands”.
Good one, Mum!
There’s another loose tooth on the horizon, I think I might encourage Grandad to step in. I’m sure he misses this fun stage now we’re all independently gross.
What tummy churning task do you pass along?
*Just in case you were wondering why there’s no image, it’s because I googled ‘how to pull out loose teeth’ in image mode. I have regret.
Linking up with Jess for IBOT