hard, and they can even leave marks on the skin. I am talking of my eight year old angel. After a long time, the little fellow screamed, cried, hit me and bit me. Thank God his front teeth are still half grown, or he would surely have drawn blood.
Yup, he had a reason. We were at the dentist and the doc put an awful contraption inside his mouth and cemented it to his teeth. Something about correcting his lower jaw. Something which Pavan will thank me later in life for, for he will get a girlfriend, he might even become a star. ;)
'Take it off! Take it off!' Pavadu screams, oblivious to everyone looking.
'Get him out of here. You can come back after an hour to pay up. But please take him out. He will calm down after an hour.'
An hour? Oh God. How will I mange him all alone for an hour in this state? (Papa is out of town. And I have forgotten my cell at home.)
'Take it off now! Ai! I will take it out with a knife! I will!' he screams, hitting me again and again, tears streaming down his face.
'And don't let him pull it out. Mothers have suggested to me that I use Fewikwik because they are fed up with coming again and again for a re fit.' The doc has the nerve to joke with me at a time like this.
I hold his hand to prevent him from pulling it out and he bites, and I scream louder than him. Momentarily shocked, both of us make a hasty exit. Another half hour of crying ensues outside the doctor's clinic.
'I am not going with this thing in my mouth. Tell that doctor to take this off. It hurts. Its awful. My teeth are covered up. I cant swallow. I cant eat.'
'Look, I don't like this contraption too. It looks quite yukky. Tell you what. Lets go to a restaurant, and we will order a pavbhaji (his favorite). If you can eat it, good. If you cant eat it, then I will myself tell the doctor to take it off. You think I can take it if my child cant eat? Hmm? You think I will allow anyone to stop you from eating?'
He is a fairly logical boy and he saw the reasoning. Besides, he was hungry.
After two pavbhaji's (ok, so I ate from his plate), the desision to 'take it off' is postponed till tomorrow. He is not going to school till we either get this doctor to take it off, or we go elsewhere.
On the way back, he got a toy plane, a movie CD, a new sweater, and lots of kisses.
And me? I get to listen and see the charming Ghulam Ali to sooth my frayed nerves. Wonder if his mom ever bore his bite marks?