When I was teething as a baby I would holler like a desperate railbird with his family's milk money on the nose of a front running horse whose lead is rapidly diminishing. My mom did not know what the fuck to do so she phoned her mom. "Beer's teeth are coming in and he won't stop screaming, the little shit. What did you do for me when my I was teething Ma?" she asked her wise mother.
My grandma had the answer for everything. "Put a quarter cup of brandy in his next bottle. That'll shut the motherfucker up."