My son Max cut his first two teeth back in July. Since we could see his top two teeth pressing through the front of his gums, we figured those would follow in short order.

Nope. His third tooth arrived one week ago, some three months later. And he let us know exactly how he felt every step of the way.

We can't say we weren't warned. Experienced parents told us the top two front teeth often cause more discomfort and anguish than the first two teeth (which are usually the bottom ones). Back in July, just before cutting those first teeth, Max woke up once in the middle of the night because of the pain. Last week, he woke up every night but one. And instead of going down relatively easily, he insisted on serenading his parents for a few hours each time. Our friends were right. The second set of teeth is a bitch.

And so, when his fourth tooth arrived on Thursday, we were so happy we danced. The worst was over, and Max could go back to being the personable baby that he has become. After all, we were about to spend three days at my in-laws, and it's always nice to have a happy baby around the grandparents. Max's mouth, however, had different ideas.

Max spent most of Thursday night crying, and a four-hour trip to the coast the next morning didn't do much to improve his mood. His response to the sight of his grandparents welcoming him with open arms? A shriek of sheer terror.

Did I mention that Max has just entered his "stranger anxiety" phase, that ever-lovely time of a child's life when any variation from routine or separation from caregivers triggers an instant surge of fear? It's not pleasant. But, you know, it's a phase and all phases eventually end. Of course, we said that about the teething pain. Once the tooth has cut through the gum, the pain is supposed to subside rather quickly. Problem was, Max still was in pain. A busload of pain.

At some point Friday afternoon, Barbara managed to get a finger in his mouth. "He's got five teeth in there!" she yelled excitedly. Well, as excited as you can get knowing that if there are five teeth, another one is lurking and there is still plenty of crying left in this teething cycle.

"Top or bottom? I asked. "Top," she said. "And the sixth is just about ready to pop as well."

As you know, we said similarly silly things about the third and fourth teeth back in July. And while teeth usually come in sets of two, it's perfectly normal for the second half of a pair to take a couple of weeks or longer to arrive. We'd been going on four hours or less of sleep a night for more than a week (a decidedly unpleasant reminder of Max's first two months of life), so we weren't exactly heartened by the news of a fifth tooth. Max held up his half of the bargain, waking up at ten Friday night and screaming non-stop until three in the morning.

Saturday was not Max's greatest day. Like his parents, he was crabby from a lack of sleep, and he also was trying to figure out (from his knees) an entirely new house. A task which he did not undertake with any enthusiasm. Still, late in the afternoon Barbara managed to wedge her finger in his mouth and confidently state, "He's got six."

And so he does. Back in July, it took almost a month for Max's first two teeth to fully grow into position. At the rate these four teeth are descending, they ought to be finished by the end of next week. This only makes sense: Twice as many teeth arrive twice as fast.

Max did sleep all the way through Saturday night, and he was a very even-tempered (if not exuberantly pleasant) child this morning. He even managed a few smiles while being held by Grandmother and Grandfather. When we arrived home in the evening, he immediately crawled to his favorite places in our house as if to say, "These are my tiles. This is my rug. This is my floor. This is my house." Until he went to sleep, he was the happiest of babies.

He should be. After all, cutting four teeth in one week is a big accomplishment for Max. Just like the end of that week is a huge relief for his parents.

Jon Worley doesn't remember teething, though there was that one time in college when he woke up with a hangover and a set of bite marks in a tender place.