'Cause that would be me now. Despite my fear of pulling teeth. After all, it's like...um...pulling teeth. Sorry. I know it was bad.
My son's tooth was literally hanging and I had no choice. If I'd had a choice, I'd have done anything else.
My incredibly supportive, wonderful husband...laughed at me. He doesn't understand how I can be a nurse and do the things I have done as a nurse yet be squeamish about pulling a tooth. I wanted to be a doctor, and had looked at being a surgeon. I LOVED the cadevar lab. The thought of cutting someone open, or sewing them back together; it doesn't scare me.
Pulling a tooth? That's another story.
No. It's not logical. Neither is my fear of spiders. That's why they're called phobias, people! No rational thought ever goes into any irrational fear! And I'm okay with that.
And just as I have had to kill spiders despite my incredible fear of them, today I had to pull a tooth. It was either that, or send him to the neighbor...who's afraid of blood. That wouldn't have been any better. Plus I'm his mom. So I did it, I pulled the tooth that was hanging by a thread.
And just for you, I made him wait long enough for me to get a picture first. You can thank me later. After you lose your lunch.
For those wondering, the dark stuff on his tooth in the first picture is blood. That's correct. I told my son to stand still and hold his mouth open so I could take a picture as blood poured from his mouth.
It'll give him something to tell a therapist when he's 30.