Interview with a Vampire

Recently heard in the J household:

"I wish it was all a dream."

"I was "this" close to calling K. And then D called and I wanted to play. If only I called K five minutes earlier. Or even two minutes earlier."

"I can only drink room temperature water?"

"I'm thinking I can maybe get some more computer time out of this..."

"Go ahead...say it. You won't get in trouble, I swear..." "Thit"



And so. His front teeth are broken. Pretty badly. He was playing street hockey with over a friend's house last night and the other boy's stick got stuck in a storm drain grate. The kid gave it a good strong yank and SLAM. The blade hit my boy square in the mouth. His teeth parts fell straight into the storm drain and that, my friends, was that.

My husband was already on his way to pick the boy up, I was out Christmas shopping. (P.S. Retail therapy + Best Friend = Total Able to Cope Mom) My husband calls me and says the boy "had an accident" at D's house. I, for a brief minute, thought he had peed his pants. Which would've been bad enough. Anyway... he tells me his teeth got smashed out, mostly. I, in my head, think there is something more. Something called A PUNCH LINE. Alas, no punch line.

I called the dentist - no emergency hours. I called the pediatrician - an almost immediate and awesomely good natured callback. Sorry, though, nothing they can do. My husband says the boy is in fine spirits, no pain (except for a sore lip) and is doing well. I stay on course with the shopping, buying the boy many shirts at Old Navy while plagued by 'survivor's guilt'.

We got in to see his dentist today. The news isn't all that great. First, it's off to the Endodontist for some testing on the teeth and nerves. One of the nerves is exposed and one is just below the surface and that, apparently, spells trouble. Especially if trouble is spelled R-O-O-T-C-A-N-A-L. The endo guy will either say they're okay or the boy will need root canal "therapy". Which, holy fucking moly...that's supposed to hurt and that's pretty much the way the dentist was leaning. Once the endo guy gives the regular dentist the okay...then we'll start with the reconstructive work. Some sort of temporary measure is all they'll do until he's about twenty. Sort of breakaway teeth, in case he gets hit again. Even the permanent measures, according to the dentist, will be a lifelong bout of dentistry fun for the boy. Damn, damn, damn.
I told him I could return his gifts because I heard

All he wants for Christmas is his two front teeth...

He wasn't that amused.