Worrying for nothing

Sometimes we project our fears onto our child and sometimes I think we try not to so much that are surprised when they freak out. Yesterday was a bad day for B and me. B. went to swimming lessons in the morning, and I thought since we finally have a nice day why don't we go to the pool after lunch to have fun and practice some of the stuff he's learning.
Let's just say, I had parents and the lifeguard thinking I was an abusive mother and no, I didn't lay a hand on my child. I wanted to throttle him like Homer Simpson would Bart, but no, I was dying a thousand embarrassing deaths while my son screamed that he was going to drown a thousand times. I was mean and told him that I never wanted to go swimming with him again and from now on that I would drop him off at nana/papa's while I went to have fun and then he drove the dagger in my heart when he said ok, I'm a bad boy. It is amazing how easily he won the emotional battles with me, and in the end I felt really horrible for trying to do something that was a lost cause, and I could have avoided it.
After that incident, I tried to repair the situation and just have fun. He wouldn't let me touch him, but we did play shark (someone is it), and we also played Sponge Bob- he does a great Squidword (I think that's the character's name)...anyway, it ended up better than it started but I would still re-do that first half-hour if I could. So, then last night, I started worrying about something else...
David took B. to the dentist this morning to get his tooth pulled. I expected/worried that I would get the Oliver Twist pitiful and abused orphan coming home. Instead I got a happy pain-free child (thanks tylenol) who informed me that the tooth fairy had to give him lots of money for a PULLED tooth. I asked if there were deductions for the cavity...