I’m constantly lamenting the state of my appearance before falling out the front door to run errands. With 3 kids in tow.
Fiddledaddy always makes me feel better about my situation by reminding me that we reside in Armpit, Florida, and he then calls after me with the parting thought, “WELL, AT LEAST YOU STILL HAVE ALL OF YOUR TEETH!”
I do have good teeth. I’ll give him that. I often boast how I’ve never had a cavity. Despite growing up with a southern mother that served me iced tea so sweet that your spoon would stand straight up in the glass.
I have to give credit to good genes. My mother had beautiful teeth, and didn’t have a cavity until she was well into her 40’s. I remember it well. I believe the dastardly cavity appeared at about the same time as she hit menopause. While I was a bundle of teenaged hormones.
We were both an absolute delight to live with.
I went for my annual teeth cleaning today. I looked forward to reclining in the faux leather chair while the hygienist fawned over my teeth. As is the annual custom.
After presenting x-rays that were suitable for framing, she began praising my pearly off-whites.
But then she began the actual cleaning process. I took note of the dismay in her audible sighs. And the inquisition began. Have you been flossing?
I had to admit that while I was once a champion flosser, the braces that I had to endure in late adulthood caused me to slack off from the nightly flossing ritual.
For five years.
I hung my head in shame.
She began with the tisk tisking and telling me what bad shape my gums were in. And she told a dental joke about how the patient’s teeth were perfect, but the gums had to be replaced.
Only I couldn’t laugh because the PICK AX she was using to relieve my teeth of All The Plaque kept me immobilized.
She scraped and dug and tisk’ed some more, and when she mercifully finished, the dentist came in to see the damage.
I have Doogie Howser for a dentist. I really wanted to ask him if he could drive yet, but I feared the sharp instruments that he was in possession of.
At about this time I glanced down at the blood spattered lobster bib protecting my shirt, and all I can say is that it was a good thing I was already lying down.
The hygienist made an appointment for me to come back next month FOR A DEEP CLEANING. WITH AN ANESTHETIC OINTMENT.
Right on about the anesthetic. But couldn’t I just be put under?
Not long after leaving, I discovered that nothing could touch my teeth without me yelping in pain. Not even the neighboring teeth in my mouth.
Which made a liquid diet very desirable. Perhaps something with a little bitty umbrella? The rest of the family may need to exist on soup and porridge with me over the next few days.
Since I’m never one who likes to suffer alone.
I wish I could tell you that I’ve learned my lesson, and I’ll henceforth cease with all the bragging. But, still, I’ve never had a cavity.
But then, menopause is right around bend. Just about the time Emme hits adolescence….