Smiling with Loose Teeth

When DD got a loose tooth, I mentioned it to DH, in the form of, hmmm, wonder if there are extra teeth in there. He said, “What, like a shark?!”

No, not like a shark. I didn’t bust one eating some other creature and then grow more. Just a random genetic phenomenon, like curly hair.

The dentist summoned me over to look at DD’s loose tooth. Which I have seen. He says we can expect it and the one next to it – which is also being pushed out – to come in crowded, but straighten up over time. How much they will straighten depends on how much her jaw grows. I told him I had extra teeth as a child. Did he see any extras in there?

He gave me that fascinated look that medical people give me when they realize they have discovered someone genetically bizarre, but not dangerous. And in this case even better, not his problem. He said no, and showed me her ex-ray. See, no extra teeth in there. He shamelessly leaned toward me and stared at my teeth.

Nothing to see there. I told him that the extra teeth were no trouble. It was a surprise when the thought-to-be permanent teeth fell out. Then these additional teeth appeared. And underneath were totally normal adult teeth.

We looked at DD’s ex-ray again. I said I was pleased not to pass on the weird gene. He said, ah yes, good job. But for good measure he looked at my teeth again in an obvious manner and back again at DD’s, both of us smiling. Me because I was entertained by his fascination with my dental weirdness. Her because everybody else was smiling. And the hygienist had just given her a princess toothbrush.

Beyond the obvious practicality, asking the dentist about the extra teeth is a good party trick. Like using the grandma voice. It brings humor into a space that wasn’t funny a moment ago. And in this case, the pediatric dentist, if he’s bored, will get to wonder in Gregory House style if something else is secretly wrong with me, if it is a genetic or chemical phenomenon, or from what scarce ethnic group I might hail which is not obvious.

And no, I didn’t just imagine that from watching House. I’ve actually worked in hospitals. And some of the doctors are really that curious. Usually the ones who don’t mind leaning over your five year old to stare at your teeth in a completely unashamed manner.

It’s good to be almost forty. I embrace my strangeness. Or uniqueness. Whatever.

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• Prehensile Toes