The Law of Cavity

by Bob Smiley as told to Bob Smiley

My morning started off like normal.

“Chun ah hev slum lereal?” I said, walking into the kitchen.

“Why are you talking funny?” Mom said.

“No leason.” I looked away.

“Do you have a sore tooth?”

I paused. “Les.”

“That’s it. We’re TAKING YOU TO THE DENTIST.” (Mom didn’t really shout, but I know I heard scary music as she said those words.)

I don’t like going to the dentist. That’s why I brush my teeth at least once a week. But a few days ago my tooth decided to become sensitive to everything hot or cold . . . or lukewarm.

I also discovered that I couldn’t touch my tooth with anything hard, such as peanut brittle or my tongue. But I forgot in class yesterday and moved my tongue over the tooth.

“Auuuggghhh!” I shouted.

“What’s wrong?” my teacher asked.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just very excited about math!”

Now I’m waiting at the dentist’s office. I’ve decided to face my fears like a man. Hang on. . . .

Well, they just found me hiding in the bathroom, so now I have to go face the dentist.

It’s finally over!

First, I sat in this chair that leans way back. I think they recline you so it’s harder to escape.

Then the dentist took this tiny mirror on a stick⎯it’s so tiny, I don’t know how he fixes his hair in it each morning. Anyway, he took the mirror and looked at my tooth.

Well, he tried to look at my tooth. I’d put chewing gum over it, hoping he’d think that removing the gum would be enough. But he eventually said I had a large cavity.

“Well,” I said, “I want a hole in my tooth, so I can carry stuff in it.”

“If we don’t fix this,” the dentist said, “you’ll have to carry your tooth when it falls out.”

He promised it wouldn’t hurt, took a needle and stabbed the side of my mouth.

“Ouch!” I shouted. “That hurt welly mab!”

I couldn’t believe how fast my face went numb. I bit down on my lip to see if I could make it hurt. I didn’t feel anything. However, a loud scream filled the room.

“I’m sorry!” I said. “I thought I was biting my lip. I didn’t know your finger was still in there.”

Once the dentist finished a long rant about choosing the wrong profession, he went to work on my bad tooth.

Twenty minutes later I was out of the chair and felt great.

The nurse even gave me a special prize! I got a free toothbrush and a list of other dentists to try. I wanted to thank my dentist but was told he was icing his finger. I guess working on teeth makes your hands sore.

Anyway, it was a great experience! So don’t be afraid to go to the dentist. He’s there to help you, so you never have to admit you love math!


This article originally appeared in the February 2011 issue of Focus on the Family Clubhouse magazine. Copyright © 2011 by Bob Smiley. Used by permission. Illustration © Gary Locke.