I can't eat apples!
I can't eat bagels!
I can't even communicate!
Oo ee ow I alk? I an't ove i ips!!
Finally, after a consult with our new neighbors (whom are both dentists) and they gave me a quick tutorial on tooth extraction, I mustered the courage and sequestered him to the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I took a piece of tissue paper, dried off his tooth - pinched the tooth just beneath the gum - and I gave a tug. There was a bit of resistance and under normal circumstances, I would have let go of the tooth and run out of the bathroom, screaming. But these weren't ordinary circumstances: my son desperately needed for me to get rid of that tooth. So I didn't let go, I closed my eyes, suppressed the urge to scream and I yanked.
POP! Out came the tooth with nary a sound effect (thank goodness, I would have died) and instantly, his mood shifted and he was back to himself. For the rest of the evening, he was so appreciative and kept thanking me, in between bites of apples and bagels and talking nonstop. "Mom, you're the greatest. Thank you so much. I can't believe it's gone. I feel so much better. Did I say thank you? Thank you so much, Mom. You're the greatest. Hey Mom? Thanks."
If I thought it wasn't possible to love this little guy any more before ... I was wrong.
Our relationship has now reached an all new level.