Goodbye Dens Sapientiae

Ice pack after yanking Shade’s teeth

Shade had his wisdom teeth removed today. They yanked those suckers right out of his skull this morning. Now he’s on a soft diet of jello, yogurt and bloody gauze.

The jerk that named your third molars wisdom teeth — Dens sapientiae — was probably around before the birth of Jesus.  It’s like the lamest joke from pre-Christianity’s worst hack comedian. That guy was a total asine sapientiae — wise ass.

Wisdom teeth, like every other vestigial body part (tonsils, appendix, male nipples), are useless and bothersome, and often have to be removed before causing serious damage. My wisdom teeth got pulled out when I was about Shade’s age. Both Shade and I still have our appendix, tonsils, and nipples, which have yet to do serious damage, though they could still go off like unexploded bombs at any time.

The unwise part of wisdom teeth is that they don’t come out until you actually care about what your teeth might look like, i.e. when you’re a self-conscious teen. Then they crowd your front teeth, screw up your smile, and cause all sorts of dental problems until they’re forcibly removed like a bunch of drunk redneck party crashers at your daughter’s Quince Años celebration.

They’re annoying buggers that should have faded out of the gene pool after the first snooty Cro-Magnon turned down the Neanderthal’s mammoth jerky for a decent filet. And yet they keep popping up. Except in Aitza, who was born without them. What the hell, Aitza? You couldn’t pass those genes down to our kids?

Meanwhile, Shade spends his second week in the last month of 2015 in bed with an aching noggin. Here’s hoping that 2016 gives him a break from surgeries.

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