A. Inherited My Teeth! WOO HOO!

Of all the strange things to celebrate . . . . A. has wisely chosen to inherit my teeth. He survived his first dental visit with flying colors - especially since he was allowed to play with plush frogs and a stuffed hermit crab while I got my teeth cleaned . . . and then was given a blue latex glove to play with after he let the dentist poke around in his mouth. (The dentist gave me all the appropriate warnings about suffocation hazards, skin allergies, ingestion of latex powder, etc.). The glove was safely hidden in my purse within ten minutes . . . but A. sure enjoyed it while he had it!

And A. has enamel! He actually has enamel!

T. and T.'s mother both have a genetic defect regarding the enamel on their teeth. Namely, they don't have any. By the time T.'s mother hit her late 20's, she had to have every tooth pulled - and the only reason T. has kept his teeth as long as he has is due to a series of painful shots and flouride treatments from the time he was a toddler. I was not looking forward to putting A. through any of those regiments.

And now I don't have to. WHEW!