Marc is crankier than usual. He is fussy, his eyes are watering and he is shoving his fist in his mouth. What is wrong with him? Is he sick? He is clinging to me, his chubby arms tight around my neck. This is not his usual behavior. He continuously rubs his face on my neck and shoulder.
I hear Sam come in. He puts his hand on Marc’s head and says:
“He has been fussy the whole day.” Marc starts whimpering again.
Sam walks to the sink, washes his hands and takes Marc from me and places the tip of his finger in his mouth and massages his lower gums.
“What are you doing?” I ask amazed.
“He’s teething! Look you can almost see his first tooth.”
He turns Marc toward me and pushes his lower lip down and there in the middle of the engorged red gum, I see a white line. His tooth is peeking out. I stare at it speechless.