When I was 10 or 11, I had a molar that would NOT come out. I mean, this sucker would wiggle, turn, twist...but wouldn't let go.
So my Mom came up with a simply wonderful plan.
Now, most of my previous tooth-losses has been similarly difficult. I even had to cut one tooth loose with a pair of cuticle scissors. So Mom decided to make things entertaining.
First she filled the bathtub with water. Then she tied a string to my tooth, with the other end attached to a large, gray, mildly panicky tabby-cat.
I think you can see where this is going.
I -would- say my wisdom-teeth getting removed was the most memorable, but I don't remember a gorram thing. The roots were heavily recurved and splayed in wierd directions, and the orthodontist had to use a hammer and chisel to break them into pieces before withdrawing the thing in big chunks, one root at a time. 3hr operation to have four teeth yanked. Those were some -GOOD- drugs!
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