Snooping in my son Ethan’s freezer, I found a container marked “DO NOT TOUCH.” Ignoring the warning, I peeked inside and nearly dropped it—human teeth, old and creepy, stared back. My mind spun with dark thoughts, and I dialed the police, fearing the worst about my quiet 23-year-old. That split-second decision flipped my view of Ethan upside down.
When Ethan, a forensic science major, got home, he faced cops with a calm smile. “Those are for my dental forensics class,” he said, showing paperwork for the donated teeth. Since his dad passed when he was eight, Ethan and I have been tight, but he hid his new focus on pathology to spare me painful reminders. The “DO NOT TOUCH” was to keep me from freaking out while tidying his place.
The officers left after verifying everything, and I stood there, sheepish. Ethan laughed, “Mom, call me before you call the cops!” His hug eased my embarrassment, and we chuckled over my blunder. If you see a mysterious label at your kid’s place, just ask. My freezer fiasco became a funny story, reminding me Ethan’s heart is as protective as ever.
