Baby teeth – she now has 8. The first two cut like knives through her little soft gums and she cried and drooled and cried some more. Nothing could stop the tears or the pain. Her two front teeth hurt her but then more started popping in faster and with less fuss. The dentist gave me a little toothbrush for her to hold which she clutches so tightly her little knuckles turn white. In the mornings she watches me brush my teeth. She watches with wonder. She stares unblinking as I swish my brush back and forth, front to back, toothpaste dripping. She wants to do it, too. She chews on the bristles of her toothbrush and tries to move it around, unsuccessfully. I spit and rinse the toothpaste from my mouth and then help her rub the brush over her 8 tiny teeth.