Teeth

So Cleo has her first tooth - in fact, she's got her first two teeth. Or, at least, so says a delighted L., who claims to have spotted both teeth when Cleo opened wide during a peal of laughter. Me? All I see is a wonderfully odd and irregular gumline that reminds me of a topographical model of some ridge on the ocean floor. But, sure enough, when your run a finger along her lower jaw, you soon encounter a hard spot.

What does that mean for Cleo? Well, a baby's primary teeth are placeholders: they maintain a space in the jaws for the more permanent teeth that are developing beneath the gums. At the same time, their arrival can obviously also help a baby chew, and to make a wider range of sounds. And, oh yeah: the ADA recommends that a baby be seen as soon as his or her first tooth appears. Welcome to the real world, young lady.

But if that's what having teeth means to a baby, it's also worth noting that the phrase can mean a few different things in a metaphorical sense, as well. In its most familiar guise, the phrase refers to a dimension of latent power, or aggression - or bite. Hence a recent article on Russia in The Atlantic that argued that "the bear still has teeth." Abstract that one level further, and you soon realize that something as abstract as music can have teeth, too. Thus a D.C.-based band named Swivelhead could tell the Washington Post, in 1993, that "our music has teeth in it, hard guitar and hip-hop style."

And that, folks, is what I was really after. Having proven through an irrefutable transitive logic that my six-month-old daughter has hip-hop style, I wish you a very happy evening, and step offstage.