Sometimes I suck at life

and parenting in particular. Mr. Mature has six, count 'em 6, cavities. I have brushed his teeth and taken him to the dentist since he was an infant. He has always gone with me when I've had to go to the dentist. He loves it there. He loves brushing his teeth, and I've never had to fight him to do it. So imagine my horror when, today, the dentist informed me that my kid had so many cavities, and one so bad that it requires a root canal and a fucking crown, that she didn't feel she could treat him in the office. Instead, she feels he needs to have all his dental work done at once. In the hospital. Under sedation. Yeah. She wants to put my kid to sleep to fix his rotting teeth. And all for the low, low price of $3k.
I feel like an utter failure. He's only 4. I don't understand how this happened. Well, that's not entirely true. I know how it happened. He has my horrid teeth. They are very close together and difficult to clean in the back. Any guesses where the cavities are? Yep, you guessed it, in between his teeth and in the back. Which is exactly where all of my issues have always been with my teeth. My parents didn't take me to the dentist when I was a kid, except for when I broke my front teeth out while being an idiot. The result? I had completely rotten molars and an abcess when I finally went to the dentist at 13. I had to have four root canals, two crowns, and what seemed like a hundred fillings. I lived in the dentist's office for months and probably paid for his vacation home in the Bahamas AND his kid's college tuition with the work he put into my mouth. As he was repairing my teeth, the dentist lamented not only the condition of my teeth, but their make-up as well. My teeth suck. They are too close together in the back and the enamel is weak. He called them 'pithy' because they are soft and porous. And this festering cesspool of a dental nightmare is what I passed on to my son. Awesome.