So I told the girls at work about my silly tomato plant packaging and how it promised bushels of fun. They were as amused as I was. One of the girls said, " What's it going to do... get up and dance for you?"
Yesterday, I went to the dentist. Groan. I don't generally enjoy having my teeth cleaned. The sound and feel of sharp instruments scraping on my teeth is just not my favorite way to spend forty five minutes. Plus, my dental hygenist is extremely talkative and, while not totally obnoxious, we're not exactly kindred spirits.
For example, last fall I had an appointment with her. It was a couple days after the election and one of her conversation starters was, " So, you were probably as bummed out by the election results as we were..." and I was like, " Um...No...Actually, I wasn't." Um, hello? Okay: awkward silence. Anyway...She really means well, but...
This time, she asked me at the end of the cleaning which flavor of mouthwash I wanted to rinse with..."Citrus or mint?" I said, " Citrus." At least I thought I did. I'm pretty sure I did. I always choose Citrusy things over Minty things. Perhaps she was just so into talking about why I should have my "chart" done ( even though I told her I wasn't into astrology) that she wasn't listening. She gave me Mint mouthwash. ( This was approximately five seconds after I told her I wanted "Citrus.") What's the deal? They don't even sound alike. I said nothing. ( Just pay your bill and leave, Claire.) I guess she probably figured that the stars were aligned in the Minty House and that even if I thought I wanted Citrus flavor, the planets knew better.
I'm not even going to get into the whole Mountain Dew/Coke/delinquent girl story that she launched into when she heard that I worked at the Shelter. Let's just say, it's never boring with this lady.
The thing about going to the dentist is that it's all a big old SCAM. Once you're in their clutches, you are inextricably entwined in an evil system. You go for a cleaning, and-SURPRISE!- they just happen to "find" another cavity! You go six months later to fill the cavity, and lo, they find another! It's a fearful, endless cycle. ( And I floss and brush and rinse like a maniac. It doesn't make sense! It's too ironic: Brad isn't half as uptight as I am about the whole dental care thing and he NEVER gets cavities. ARGH.) Going to the dentist is like going to the mechanic - I'm afraid that instead of just changing the oil, they will discover that the car requires repairs that will cost the equivalent of the national debt of Namibia.
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7 comments:
Yes it is a big old wicked SCAM.
Maybe you should just relax and be
resigned to having bad teeth
like the English...haha
although I wouldn't recommend
that to anyone, unless they
don't mind being mistaken
for jack o lanterns.
Actually, I didn't tell you what she said and did about my protruding fang tooth. She put her finger on it- literally- and said, " I wish I could pop that tooth back into line." ( or something to that effect.) I told her I wished I could too! If only it were that easy...But braces would probably REALLY equal Namibia's debt. Yes, this is the same person who asked me last fall if I had thought about whitening my teeth. Have some tact, woman!
Good Grief! What nerve! KICK THE BUMS OUT!!!
Also as I re-read what i wrote...I wasn't saying you HAD bad teeth, just making a general statement...
I can attest for Claire's maniacal care for her teeth, as we had adjoining rooms in Bible School & I could hear her morning & evening ritual of toothbrushing that took the same time as my ENTIRE morning or evening routines!
I'm pretty sure that "Tactlessness 101" is a requirement for dental hygienists. I still blame (or give credit to) one of them for getting me to finally decide to grow out my bangs of justice. Her exact words as she gently encouraged me to do something different with my hair: "It's a shame you have to look like a poodle." yes. thank you.
Augh! oil changes and teeth cleanings. Once they have you they always find something wrong. I think I am phobic of both places.
by the way I bounced here from one of your postings and love reading your blog.
Oh come on, the dentist's not that bad, is it? Besides being bankrupt, what can you truly complain about?
There is probably a secret guild where they all gather once a year to share stories and ideas on how to make us feel stupid, inept and generally like a 2 year old...
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