Howdy,
How’s your day been going?
Mine’s been fine, but now I’m sitting in a dentist’s office with a six-year-old — who seemed more interested in our talk about cemeteries.
Actually, I was sitting, I planned to be sitting while drafting this post, but now I’m standing in the doorway of the dentist’s office. I’m standing because the six-year-old-of-mine, Jasper, is in the dentist’s chair, getting X-rays.
I had to clear out and stay back … but also stay close.
Per the dental hygienist … per Jasper.
Today is only his second or third dental visit — and that actually sounds higher than the effect I want to strike, because it hasn’t been many and it’s all new to him, and if it is the third, it’s still only like two and a half trips because the first visits went something like “he’s too young; we don’t take him here” and then he somehow was seen by someone grumpy and gruff at a children’s dentistry, which just doesn’t make sense. Well, it makes total sense, but I’m saying if you go into the line of work of being a dentist specializing in children you should know what you’re getting into and not treat the little critters like they shouldn’t be little critters, ah, I mean, kiddos. Kiddos. Anyway, dentistry is tough on kids and kids difficult on Doctor Dentists. And, really, all this is if I remember right on how I heard the first visits went or didn’t go … — but it’s my first trip to the dentist with one of our kids.
Jasper is definitely glad I’m here, specifically asking if I was staying with him and sounding reassured when I said yes.
And that was while we were walking away from our car and only just starting toward the dentist’s office. We hadn’t even entered the building yet.
Today was only a checkup. Nonetheless, it stinks having to have those X-ray pieces jammed in your mouth and hold still while being gagged just shy of vomiting. All on a day a drill doesn’t make an appearance or even get an utterance.
Jasper did well, better than I might have guessed with the X-rays, cleaning, and poking around for a couple of other things. He’s been enjoying Wild Kratts, and I imagine he liked when the hygienist said to him, “Open really big, big as an alligator …”
There was also some talking him throw it along the way, and that’s how you find yourself defending the dentist to a six-year-old.
Even when you don’t want to yourself, which is especially after you’ve started to hear “braces” and “we’ll have to get you on the ortho-plan early.”
Confronted with a smiling dental hygienist, now, I feel like I’m bracing, realizing we’ll need braces on our budget.
The six-year-old isn’t our youngest, either. He’s our eldest — not oldest, like only two. No, we’ll be bracing later to hear if No. 2 and, then, No. 3 may need braces. Oh boy!
Smile, Papa, smile.
We’ll all need to smile a lot — to get our money’s worth 🙂
Big as an alligator …
—Billy
Reading. Writing. Living.
Word Count: 53,616 / On Pace: 54,450 / Year’s Goal: 200,000
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