Kick in the Teeth

I know this may sound strange but I love my dentist. I mean, I love my actual dentist; I’ve known him for years and he even attended my wedding. But what I’m actually talking about here is that I love getting my teeth cleaned.  There’s something so nice about that super-slick feeling on my teeth when I walk out and know all the crud that I failed to remove over the past few months has been scraped away. L.O.V.E. it!

I will admit that I always do feel a slight need for confession, however, as soon as I sit down in the chair. “I haven’t been flossing very much. Like, at all. Ok maybe a handful of times but really not enough.”  It’s one of those things that I know I SHOULD do and just blatantly thumb my nose at. Sorry, Dr. Davis. And please don’t tell my kids…I don’t think it would be good for my credibility.

And why do I confess it? Because I feel guilty…especially knowing full-well in about 10 seconds when I open my mouth under that crazy-bright swing-arm light, it will be obvious to anyone in the tri-state area that I haven’t been flossing.  But I figure it’s the question on everyone’s mind so I’d better get it over with: Has she been flossing or not? The answer is always a big, fat: NOPE!

So today was my turn in the chair. The PBA had appointments a few weeks ago but today was my turn.  I let them play on their iPods while I was in my appointment, and I threatened them to within an inch of their lives (ok not really but I did tell them that I had eyes and ears watching them), and apparently that was enough for them. The office staff said they didn’t hear a peep out of them the entire time.

I was thrilled to bits, as my friend CW always says, to have my favorite hygienist, Jessica, do the grunt work on my teeth today. I mean no offense to anyone else…they are all lovely, and do a fine job, but she is my favorite; much in common we have. (Sorry…did you hear Yoda in that last sentence? That was kind of weird.)

So we went through the cleaning/scraping/polishing; then she told me where I need to brush a little better, and she skipped the part about telling me I need to floss more (or really…floss at all), because I had already confessed that. Plus everyone already knew.

Dr. Davis gave me my report, and said I was his best patient ever. Ok, he didn’t really say that but I know he was thinking it for sure. He just didn’t want to upset the other ones who were within earshot. I got my toothbrush and toothpaste in a little paper sack (which had Crest coupons on it…nice touch, I might add), and made my way up front to pay.

After I collected my little darlings from the waiting room (see, they’ve been darlings today…no problems at all!), we headed out to the car. Running my tongue over my teeth to feel their slickness, I turned to face my boys in the backseat and said, “Don’t my teeth look nice?” and gave them a nice big smile.I was certain that they’d be impressed.

The 11yo responded with a, “Yeah sure they look good.” But I’m not convinced he even looked up from his iPod.

Then the 9yo asked, “Let me see! I want to see them!” So I flashed him my “sure-to-be-award-winning” smile.

“Oh yeah, those look good!” he said, with raised eyebrows and a grandiose head nod. And then I heard him whisper to his brother, “Yeah, they don’t really look any different…”

Nice…