This week the whole Williams' fam-damily had dentist appointments. Since that was yes, the only note-worthy happenings in my whole month of March thus far, I am blogging about that. So if you have things to do of more pressing need than my random words of dental care, say organize your sock drawer or pluck your eyebrows or watch grass grow, then feel free to skip this entry. If not, well, I warned you.
The girl's dentist is one of those pediatric places. It's decorated with a jungle theme so picture if you will, dear reader, green walls, a painted starry sky, and tons of stuffed jungle animals all over the place. The entire staff is so fabulously sweet that I'm actually quite stunned you don't aquire cavities while you're there even if you had none when you walked through the monkey decorated door. It's their job to make the little kiddies comfy and keep them from melting down in fear, so they will spontaseously break into song or a short soft shoe number to keep the tears at bay. Their voices are like what you'd hear if you turned on Sesame Street and I can only imagine that when these professionals get home at night after a eight hour shift of pretending to be Mr Rogers on speed, they collapse on their sofa with a bottle of hard liquor and watch Spike tv all night. Both of the girls did wonderfully well; they are strange little chiclets, my kids, they adore going to the dentist. Of course maybe we all would if only our grown up experiences were like theirs. After getting their names on the Wall of Fame of No Cavities and collecting their goody bags stuffed crazy full of everything to do with teeth, they then get to collect tokens with which to get more crazy stuff out of their giant vending machines. They can hardly wait for the next six months to go by.
Now, I don't much mind going to the dentist either. This is because as a child I was taken regularly and as a result of that, plus fairly good brushing and totally not flossing except for the morning that I go, and the fact that my mom had ninja like abilities to knock anything sugary out of my hands from fifty feet "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" style. So, I have never had a cavity or braces or a root canal or anything worse than a vigorous cleaning. Last time when I first got to Wyoming I figured I'd better go and I was bracing myself for cavities because after being pregnant with Moose who gave me heartburn like I had swallowed the Sahara Desert whole, I ate Tums like they were going out of style all night long, and I was too tired to brush my teeth as recommended. No cavities, but I did get Helga the Hygenist who made my gums bleed like crazy while she chattered on about her life. Then the doctor came in to take a look like they always do, and here was an excerpt from our conversation:
Doc: Why do you have a chip in your front tooth?
Me: Well, I was sewing a baby blanket for my twin neices and nephew a few years back, and the needle got stuck in the fleece, and I pulled it out with my teeth.
Doc: Oh my Lord! Hey, Loretta! You gotta hear this one!
Me repeating the story three more times to a crowd.
Doc: Well, doesn't it bother you?
Me: Uh, no, not really, seeing as how I can't see it from my perspective.
Doc: Well, it bothers me!
Me: Well, by all means, we want you to be comfortable.
Doc: Agreed! Let's file that sucker down.
Filing commences, complete with the smell of something burning. I learn later, this is my tooth.
Doc: Oh my, I feel so much better!
Me: FladIcoodgelp. (Glad I could help).
And I didn't even get tokens or a song and dance number either. But I'm not complaining exactly. Mike is there as I type and I'm sure he's being tortured in strange and new ways that I can update you all on later in the week.