Tooth Fairy vs. Wobbly Wife

When I was a kid, losing teeth meant a couple things: 1. my uncles would pick on me and call me snaggle tooth AGAIN, and 2. it was pay day.

As an adult, losing teeth means a couple things too: 1. I'm either a hockey player or senior citizen, or 2. I am poor until pay day.

This week, my sweet college-attending husband morphed into the terrible persona of Dr. Jekle and Mr. Hyde. To be quite honest, I'm not sure which is which, but the idea is, my husband would literally transform from the sweet, silly, teddy bear husband I married, to a hulk-like creature, with tears in his eyes, pacing holes in my floor in seconds. He was struck with a toothache this week. A bad one. And that meant the loss of a tooth was probably going to occur. Needing to occur. For everyone's safety, inluding the floor's. And seeing as we're not quite senior citizens yet, and neither of us have taken up hockey as a pastime, this meant we would probably be poor until payday.

After navigating my way through my Hubby/Hulk phases until we finally got a dentist appointment, I thought this would be an adorable opportunity to stand supportive beside my husband for the first time as he had a pretty painful procedure done. I was ready for the super cute tooth fairy inside me to appear beside him and smile sweetly with looks of encouragement............................................................. that was NOT the case.
*Sighs*
Nope. "Standing" "beside" him, literally leaning against the wall of the room, was his sweet little wife... turning white... knees buckling... and then... not really standing so much at all. *hangs head in shame* No. I didn't faint. It was much more elegant than that people. I simply fought past the rapid sweats that came over my body, swallowed whatever it was that wanted to come up, and said in a bold heroic voice, "umm... I need to sit down"... then slid down the wall to the floor. *slaps forehead*

I sure hope you're seeing this. Because it's all I keep repeating in my head since. Really? THAT was my big, strong, wife, tooth fairy debut?? Fail. Epic fail.

NEVER in my life have I been squeemish! Now, true, I've never been on that side of the operating chair... but for my first time?... to fail so pathetically? Really? The saddest part is that the DENTIST said I should go wait in the waiting room. Sigh. I'm officially one of "those people" - that have to leave the room when needles come out. No offense to my fellow-softies out there that I'm now joining. I just thought I would always be able to venture to the doctor sans the barf bag in my purse. Dangit. Is there such thing as adult-onset-queezyness? That's the ONLY thing can can explain my display of mush.

The good news is, that my sweet husband has abandoned his Hulk side for good. The procedure was quick and easy, and not even too bad on the check book. I'm very proud of him for being so strong, as I will obviously be of no use to him in the future for procedures... and goodness... our poor, lonely, motherless-in-the-doctor's-office future children! We'll handle that when we get there. Sigh.  Anyways, he did wonderfully and is feeling much better, in fact, he said that the second the tooth came out the pain instantly disappeared.............. like his wife................. in the waiting room...