Note to self: Flossing the day before a dental appointment--albeit regular and routine--does not constitute a flossing regimen.
Okay, I get that. But might I add, Ms. Hygienist, that asking me about my hobbies, scribbling it down, and putting it in my file, and using it as small talk conversation starter does not count as "knowing me" the next time you see me.
Guess where I was today, Internets? That's right, the office of the official dentist for the blankity blankhawks. I was there for my once every 4 month visit. Nothing truly noteworthy happened, except that I just realized that they scheduled my next appointment for 3 months from now. Hey, wait a minute. Tricky, Doctor, tricky.
My appointment was good, but do you want to know something? I've always treated the dentist like I treated school. Always. This will come as no surprise to any of you, but I was a little goodie-two-shoes (except for the handfuls of cigarettes I mentioned smoking yesterday, well, and a few other things that I'm not going to confess here). I always did all my homework--to perfection--and would head into a traumatic tailspin if I ever received any marks. Ninety-eight out of 100?! WHAT?! HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED TWO POINTS?!
So now that I don't have school to fuel my ridiculous perfectionist ways, I have to find other outlets, like doing my taxes, and going to the dentist. The only problem with the dentist is I don't really do my homework; I mean I use my Sonicare toothbrush (following the manufacturer's instructions to the letter, of course), but I don't floss daily--sometimes not even weekly or monthly. If there's a habit I wish I would have picked up from Mr. McMichael it's flossing (followed closely by doing the dishes). Man, that dude would floss. But alas, it didn't rub off on me. In fact, he'd go off and floss, and I'd actually resent him. He's just doing his thing, flossing you know, and I would sit there not flossing and stewing, "Oh, look at you, Mr. Flossy-pants. You think you're so good with your waxy string. Better than all of us non-flossing people. Oh yeah, well, humph." And he's just standing there flossing, not thinking anything, or if he is thinking, it's probably, "Now this tooth, now the next tooth. Oh, look at my sweet little girlfriend over there. Wonder why she's scowling at me?" Whoa. I suddenly understand what it was like to be in class with me, and not be me. That's what all those stink-eyes were for when I was the first person in my class to join the "Pen and Ink" club for having the best spelling and penmanship.
So there I am, today, in the chair, mouth agape, critically analyzing every scrape, thinking, "Man, I hope she doesn't grade me down for that." Or, "Just don't poke my gums. If you don't poke my gums, then I won't bleed, and maybe you'll never know that I haven't flossed in weeks." I sit there staring out of my dark protective glasses interpreting her every facial tick, "Oh, that was definitely a look of disapproval. Oh, and that one is certainly filled with shame and disgust. The horror! I've disappointed her--oh, wait, no her nose itches."
And then waiting for the dentist to come and inspect the final product is like waiting for the report card. And when she finally comes, I'm told I have beautiful teeth and I need to floss more. In other words 98 out of 100.
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