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I’ve seen hours and hours of horror films.


I’ve seen limbs lopped off, heads caved in, blood coming out of every orifice.


I’ve watched Hellraiser 1, 2, 3 and – for my sins – 4.


I’ve watched Freddy Krueger stalk his victims in their dreams.


I’ve watched Leatherface chase down his prey with his trademark-chainsaw.


I’ve seen ghostface chat up and then cut up babysitters, jocks and even head-teachers in his seemingly endless spree.


I’ve watched no end of Japanese horrors.


I’ve lost count of the amount of long-haired girls that have crawled out of wells, TV sets, showers and even, creepiest of all, the back of one victim’s head.


I’ve Let The Right One In, I’ve been unable to reverse Irreversible, I’ve gone to Calvaire, I’ve seen what it is to be a martyr in Martyrs, I’ve had a front seat view in REC, I’ve gotten lost in the woods in The Blair Witch Project (the original, I might add)….the list is seemingly endless.


And yet not one of these has disturbed me as much as the brushing of my son’s teeth today.


He’s just lost his first tooth, bottom centre.


Man, that gap gives me the creeps…..