This little tooth stayed home. This little tooth had roast beef. This little tooth had none. And this little tooth went wee-wee-wee-wee all the way home.
So there were only 3 little teeth, not five as the tale goes, but man...we are so glad they wiggled their way out of her mouth.
Oral surgery was a success - that is if you don't count the idiot move by Mom to give her a nice, cold, frosty vanilla ice cream from Micky D's on the way home that subsequently revisited us all over the living room rug as soon as we entered the house. (Note: wait until you are home and safe before feeding a child who is coming back to earth after being high as a kite.)
She doesn't remember a thing, so it was a success in that manner, but it certainly was not all that smooth. The nurse congratulated me for having the first child, in 5 years of her nursing career, to refuse to drink the sedative in the happy juice. She admitted she pulled out all her tricks and nothing was working.
What should have been one big gulp turned into 25 small sips and lots of whining, gagging and complaining. Obviously, it had minimal effect other than to slur her speech a tad going into the room. So they brought out the big guns. The injection. Not a good scene at all - not as it was going into her arm nor as she was drifting off to spend time with the Sand Man. Eventually she rested but she's one tough cookie.
Time to get her sedated: 40 minutes
Time to extract 3 loose bottom teeth: 5 minutes
Time to return to earth: Ongoing but 45 minutes in the office
Thankfully the staff consisted of three angels who made me feel comfortable and did what was best for Abby. There were moments on the ride home when she cried hysterically but not because it hurt but "because I am so happy".
Thank you tooth fairy for inventing soft spoken oral surgeons with good drugs. See you tonight. Hope you went to the bank.