Our eleven year old had four, healthy adult teeth removed yesterday to make room for some invisible ones that have not yet arrived.

We were both a little nervous before the Anesthetist arrived but Hanna calmed down and only whispered, “Let’s make a run for it!” (twice)

The surgery lasted an excruciating ten minutes and we were moved to the recovery room where we were assigned our homework for the rest of the day.

I kissed Hanna’s forehead and asked her how she was feeling.

She said, “I feel about 71%”

That seemed rather specific.

The recovery nurse attempted to hand me a cute, little, red, plastic box and opened it like she was Richard Gere and I was Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Except instead of a string of priceless jewels, she presented me with four, recently extracted teeth the size of rhino horns.

Um, pass.

Greg was actually upset. I guess three of the teeth would have made an interesting addition to our Jenga game and one for a lost game piece of Operation, but that just seemed like a slippery slope.

The nurse suggested we stick with soft foods for the rest of the day and could introduce Kraft Dinner and Alphagetti a few hours later.

Not unless she wants my mother picketing outside of the office we can’t.

The biggest battle we had all day wasn’t convincing Hanna to relax while a nurse took her blood pressure. It wasn’t walking her around on a cold, rainy morning trying to get some fresh air to help prevent vomiting after the surgery.

The biggest battle was when her eight year old sister arrived home, “Hanna gets PUDDING?!!!!”

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