She noticed he left his apple untouched. He used to love biting into it. Now he peeled it slowly or asked her to cut it. He said it was sour, but it wasn’t. She offered yogurt instead. He said yes too quickly. That was the first quiet change.
The cold water made him pause for a second
He sipped slowly and pressed his lips together. Cold drinks didn’t used to matter. Now he winced, just for a second. Not loud, not dramatic. Just that moment. Then he smiled again like nothing happened. But she saw it. She always saw it.
He started brushing only one side of his mouth
Brushing used to be chaotic, with foam and complaints. Now it was too quiet. He stayed on the right side. The left side barely got touched. She asked why. He shrugged and said nothing. He just rinsed fast and put the brush away.
His breath changed even when he hadn’t eaten much
There was a sour smell she couldn’t explain. Not strong, just different. Even after brushing, it stayed. Especially in the morning. She checked his tongue. It was clear. Still, something didn’t feel right.
He stopped chewing on his favorite toy
That soft rubber ring never left his side. He used to chew on it while watching cartoons. Now it stayed on the shelf. She offered it once and he shook his head. He said it was sticky. It wasn’t. It was clean. But he wouldn’t touch it.
He chewed more on one side and swallowed fast
She watched him during snack time. One side of his mouth worked harder. The other stayed still. He finished food quicker than before. Barely chewing. She asked if it hurt. He said no, but didn’t look at her.
He woke up more often during the night
There were more footsteps in the hallway. More whispers behind the door. She’d find him awake, eyes wide open. No fever. No nightmare. Just awake. He asked for water more often, but didn’t drink much. He just held the glass.
He didn’t like crunchy snacks anymore
He used to love carrots and crackers. Now he asked for soft things. Bananas. Rice. Bread without crust. When she asked why, he said they were too loud. She didn’t understand at first. Loud? It made sense later.
He flinched when she helped him brush
Her hand brushed near his cheek and he pulled away. Not always. Just sometimes. He said the brush was too hard. She bought a softer one. Still, the flinch stayed. Especially near the back teeth.
He avoided certain words when speaking
He talked less at dinner. Especially when the food was hot. He avoided words with wide vowels. As if opening his mouth too far hurt. She didn’t notice at first. Then she did. It was subtle but clear.
He touched his cheek when thinking
It started as a small gesture. A hand resting on one side of his face. Not rubbing. Just resting. Like it helped. Like pressure made something easier. It was always the same spot. Right below his eye.
He asked when the dentist was coming again
He never liked going, but now he asked. Not with excitement. More like concern. He asked if the dentist would look at his teeth this time. She said yes. He nodded and walked away. That was all.
He said his tooth looked darker than before
He looked in the mirror longer than usual. He asked if teeth could turn brown. She said only if they’re not cleaned. But she cleaned his teeth daily. He pointed at the back. She couldn’t see anything. Not yet.
His toothbrush had a faint pink stain
She noticed it while rinsing. Not every day. Just sometimes. A pale pink near the bristles. He didn’t mention it. Neither did she. But the brush wasn’t like that before.
He asked what a filling was
It came out of nowhere. He was building blocks and suddenly asked. She explained it simply. He nodded again. Then asked if they hurt. She said not really. He didn’t ask anything else.
He didn’t smile with his full mouth anymore
Pictures changed. His wide grin became a small smile. Closed lips. Tucked chin. She thought it was just a phase. Then she saw him hiding his mouth while laughing. It wasn’t a phase.
He liked cold fruit more than warm meals
Grapes. Watermelon. Frozen berries. He said they tasted better. But really, they numbed something. He never said it directly. But she noticed the pattern. Cold was comfort.
He stopped biting his nails
She used to remind him daily. Now he didn’t need reminders. Not because he grew out of it. Because his teeth didn’t meet the same way anymore. The bite had changed.