For five months, I have said the phrase “he must be teething” at least once a week. Whenever Ryan gets a low fever, gets extra fussy or starts drooling a ton, I figure we’re finally getting some teeth. And then we don’t.
So when Ryan started drooling like a maniac over the weekend, we were cautiously optimistic. “Maaaaybe he’s teething? But probably not!”
When he developed a low fever by Monday morning, “Could be a sign of teething? But doubtful!”
When he dropped his laid back nature in favor of something a bit more temperamental? “It’s probably the ear infection.”
For the past 5 days, we’ve poked and prodded in his mouth. Nothing. For 10 minutes this morning, we attempted to peek inside. But when you try to open his mouth, he assumes you’re giving him something he can lick and the tongue comes flying out. And then when there’s nothing to lick, he is displeased and lets you know it.
This morning, we decided to risk looking like idiots (we’ve already told daycare like seven times that we think he’s teething). We packed up a teether and his binky, which we had been close to eliminating. Mike arrived with an aggravated Ryan and announced, “So, we think he might be teething.”
“Oh yeah, we know. We saw the two teeth coming in yesterday,” Ms. Mallory said.
You saw them? TWO of them?