Of course I had seen the videos of kids drugged up after they’d gotten their wisdom teeth out, but I always thought that maybe there was a little bit of acting, or that kid was the exception not the rule. However, after witnessing my daughter Bailey’s procedure, and hearing about many of her friends’ experiences, I think that this not-so-great experience for our kids could be a highlight for us parents.

My youngest daughter, Brooke, volunteered to get up early during her Christmas break because she thought we may need someone to capture it on video. We did. As we left the house, I gave Bailey the little pills the dentist gave us to relax her before surgery. By the time we arrived at the office, Bailey was like a sloppy drunk. Her speech slurred and she was obsessed about her phone that had been purposely left at home. We kept telling her it was in her pocket. When she couldn’t find it in that pocket, we would tell her it was in another one. This game lasted until Brad helped her stumble into the waiting room and fall into one of their big, poofy chairs.

 

In between dozing, Bailey would wax poetic about the beauty of seeing two of everything. This also lead to her exclaiming that Brooke and I should start a band. Our inability to sing aside, I asked, “What kind of music would we sing?”

 

“Country, err something deep and mellow.”

 

We laughed because this family hates country music, not to mention we lack singing ability. Brooke zoomed her camera in on Bailey to catch the serious look on her face and asked, “What would the name of our band be?”

 

Bailey waved her hand as if to say that was the easiest question of all. “Brooke and Jen, and Jen and Brooke.”

 “A foursome?”

 “Yeah, because there’s so many of you.” Then Bailey fell asleep until the hygienist came to get her.

When it was over, they rolled Bailey to our car in a wheelchair. Brad was in the process of getting her settled in the backseat when she asked for her phone. I asked what she was going to do with that. “I have to keep my streaks,” Bailey slurred around the bloody gauze that was hanging halfway out her mouth.

“Oh, honey,” I said, “You don’t want anyone to see you right now.”

“Yes, I do. I look awesome.” A bloody piece of gauze and some red drool spilled from her mouth. Brad shoved the gauze back in and we started home.

Brad played ‘your phone is in your pocket’ game again with Bailey, and worked at keeping her nasty gauze in her mouth, Brooke filmed, and I drove. This lasted for a few minutes, but then Bailey noticed a ball of yarn in the back seat. It was actually for a Christmas Eve scavenger hunt, but for Bailey, it meant that we got a cat. She wasn’t happy about our new cat.

“Do we have a cat? Why would you get a cat? I don’t want a cat, I hate cats! Why didn’t you get a puppy? I want a puppy. I love puppies. Puppies are so cute. Why did you get a cat? Cat’s are stupid. I can’t believe we have a cat.” Tears joined the red drool cascading down her face.

Nobody corrected Bailey’s assumption because it was video gold. Brad said as he shoved her gauze back in her mouth and wiped her face with a Kleenex, “I’m sure you’ll grow to love the cat.”

“Nnnooo, I won’t! I don’t want a cat. They don’t love you, they just use you. Dogs love you. I just love dogs. That’s all. Nothing else.” Bailey sighed. “Where’s my phone?”

Bailey remained fixated on her phone until we finally get her into bed and asleep. She would later thank us, after seeing the posts from her friends who had their wisdom teeth out, for not giving it her. Unfortunately, the videos were lost forever when Brooke got her new phone, which is why I had to write it down.