Dentist

I love going to the dentist.  Having someone work on my teeth so I leave with a shiny smooth smile... love it.

G went to the dentist tonight.  Apparently, he does not love the dentist.

Perhaps it was me scooping him up after day care; force-feeding him dinner at warp speed; and dashing off into the Arctic night, trying to get there on time.

Perhaps it was having to sit in the waiting room for 1/2 hour while Pat Sajak screamed at us from the lobby television.

Perhaps it was the frantic, behind-schedule hygienist who flung open the door and herded us quickly back, despite G's concerned "whazza?" regarding the suspicious vacuum noises from the next room.

Whatever it was... he was NOT opening his mouth.

Well, except for the brief moments when he cried "No hurt me" and "No owie!"  Then, his mouth was open.  But he still carefully hid his teeth behind his turned-in lips.

What the heck?

Finally, Harried Hygienist departed, and the dentist came in.  He actually took the time to be reassuring with G... exchanged high fives, demonstrated how he would just look at the teeth, showed him the prize chest he'd get to choose from afterwards.

Didn't matter.

The lips were sealed.

I wonder what the librarian is going to think when I go in tomorrow... this time requesting books about going to the dentist. 

Happy Oral-Awareness Month, from our home to yours.