Wisdom Is Sometimes Blessed Upon The Young

When I’m fifteen, I have all four wisdom teeth out at once. I don’t see much point in whining or complaining about the pain, so I just set timers for when I can take my next dosage of pain meds — five total over-the-counter pills every six hours, plus an antibiotic three times a day — and distract myself with Disney movies and a Pokémon marathon.

The morning after the procedure, I’m drinking a smoothie and reading on my phone. My parents are having their own breakfast.

My mother turns to my father and says, “If you were in her place right now, you’d be bawling.”