Thursday, August 05, 2004

My Life - Part 3: Teething

As an infant, I realized that my father didn’t have a fingernail on his right index finger. I found this out because he would use that finger to feel around in my mouth in an attempt to discover if my teeth had started appearing. When I was older, he told me that his finger was lopped off in an accident when he was a kid. Even though the tip of his finger was reattached, the fingernail was lost. Of course, the missing fingernail gave his finger the appearance that the tip was never reattached.
So, my dad would stick that index finger in my mouth to feel for teeth. I really didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much I could do about it, being and infant and all. I still remember the rough and ridgy feeling of his short index finger rubber against my gums, tongue and the roof of my mouth. Yuk. So this one day, my parents were over me. My mother was telling my day, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to stick your finger in his mouth. He’s gonna bite cha,” or something along those lines. Yes, even as an infant I understood the meaning of her words. He sticks his finger in my mouth. I waited for the right moment to finally use my new teeth. For a split-second, hesitated out of conscience. Suddenly I bit as hard as I could! He howled in pain and he yanked his finger away. I remember enjoying my deed, and actually feeling a little proud at my plot’s success. My mom was I-told-you-so’ing as he went to nurse his finger.

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