Trust, Sweat, and Tears

Trust, Sweat, TearsI sat on the edge of my son’s bed, hands shaking, stomach roiling at the thought of what I had to do. String thread through my fingers, a loop hung in the middle.

His eyes were wide, tears brimming. It had to be done and there was no one else to do it.

The only reason my son sat still as I reached into his mouth, was because he trusted that I loved him . . . and it was, after all, only a tooth that needed to be pulled.

My house has seen a combined nine teeth already lost and exchanged for tooth fairy gold, but my husband and I had yet to pull one.

I’m not sure my son’s trust was well-founded. But he has a tooth snuggled under his bed waiting for his booty, which should be just enough to by the Star Wars Lego set he has all picked out.

When I asked my little peanut where my reward was, he grinned his gap-toothed grin, and gave me a hug.

Yep. It was worth every bullet I sweat. Every one.

Trust, sweat, tears square

One thought on “Trust, Sweat, and Tears

  1. Your comments about pulling your son’s tooth brought a chuckle and a reflection of the number of teeth that I have pulled as a mother and friend of mother who couldn’t muster up the courage nor the child able to trust his mom to pull his tooth. It also brought up the thought that the role of “Mother” is a daunting one – one of responsibility, privilege, delight, fear, pain and agony. But on the lighter side, what came to mind as I was chuckling was the “non-certified” roles that many of us practice: dentist, doctor, nurse, teacher, carpenter, engineer, lego master, artist, physical therapist, recreation directer the list of “unauthorized” roles is endless. We take on these roles not for financial gain (who could afford the cost) but out of love and joy of hearing our children call us “Mom.”

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