This afternoon at four, my two youngest kids and I had dental appointments.
On the short drive to the office, I asked my kids if there’s anything they like doing less than going to the dentist.
“No,” they said.
“What about running five miles?”
“I’d rather run five miles.”
“What about walking on broken glass?”
“I’d rather walk on broken glass.”
“What about listening to your brothers argue?”
Pause. “I’d rather go to the dentist.” My 15-year old son absolutely hates to be around arguing or fighting, especially when his brothers go at it.
Personally, I’d rather do almost anything than go to the dentist but I also want to have teeth until I die. So, we went.
The exams and cleanings took longer than I’d hoped–we were there almost two hours, I think. My daughter ended up getting two especially stubborn baby molars plucked out. The adult teeth had come in and still those babies refused to leave. My son passed with flying colors.
The dentist looked at my mouth, asked me if I’d been wearing my mouthguard but I don’t have and never have had a mouthguard so I said no. He looked puzzled and studied my chart. He advised me to get one (low price of $295 after insurance) and told me I’d be glad I did in twenty or thirty years but I’m not convinced. I also need three crowns (low, low price of $400 each after insurance) but I’m putting that off until money grows on trees.
Also, can someone explain how to carry on a conversation while someone’s fingers and sharp metal dental tools are all crowded in my mouth? While I enjoy the staff at this dental office, it’s pretty difficult to chat while I have the x-ray things clenched between my teeth.
It sounded something like this:
Her: “Oh, did you cut your hair?”
Me: “Yaaaaa, uhg had nnnufffff soooo uh cuhhhh i.”
Her: “Oh, is that your natural color and curl?”
Me: “Ahhhhhhh, uh aaaaah.”
Him: “So are you all ready for Christmas?”
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The dentist: More fun than walking on broken glass but a lot less fun than pretty much everything else in the world.