There had been much talk at home in the lead up to this event.
The size of the needle was contemplated. The number of injections required were pondered. The chance...as a percentage....that a needle in the roof of your mouth could in fact pierce your brain was considered. We ruminated on whether the dentist would need to put his foot on Master 15's chest to get enough leverage to yank that sucker out. We speculated on whether scalpels and stitches would be necessary and we gave due consideration as to whether we should stock up on soup and custard and scrambled eggs.
As you can imagine with all these issues meditated upon.....by the time the appointment finally arrived....nerves were at a fever pitch. There were clammy hands, cold sweats, nauseous guts and a stress induced migraine to endure.
Master 15 was fine.....that was just me.
So Master 15 lay back in the chair and the dentist went to work. Within a minute or so he leaned back with a sigh of satisfaction, brandishing Master 15's molar in his vicious looking pliers.
I clapped my hands together with glee...."Thank goodness that's over....I didn't feel a thing!"
Master 15 just rolled his eyes.