If anyone has ever experienced the pain of their wisdom teeth coming through, spare a thought for poor babies who have no idea what-on-earth teething is.
All they know is it hurts; and it hurts us parents to know there’s not much we can do.
The signs were all there when William started teething.
He dribbled so much he would have been sat in a puddle if we hadn’t wiped away his drool every five minutes.
With chubby bright red cheeks it looked like he’d rummaged through my make up bag and covered himself in blusher.
And nothing in sight was safe from being shoved in his mouth and chewed to mush... Especially any fingers in his reach.
So we should’ve really known what was behind a three-hour screaming fit that appeared out of nowhere last weekend.
We were staying with an ex-Gazette buddy in London when William treated us to a complete meltdown.
He’d been all smiles and giggles while out sight-seeing. But suddenly all we could hear was a high pitched squeal that could rival the Bee Gees.
We tried everything – nappy change, bottle, cuddles, rocking to sleep, a bath and even the desperate pram push around the block.
But nothing seemed to work and it was only from pure exhaustion he eventually fell asleep.
A day later, the root of the problem appeared in all its bright white glory.
No wonder the poor little fella had been screaming so much.
So now we’re prepared for the teething signs and armed with a teething ring, teething gel (although more of that ends up over his face and up my arms than actually in his mouth), the miracle medicine that is Calpol and his favourite teething remedy... our fingers!