Well, a lot of people have been asking what in the world did I do with myself on Thursday... my first day off in nearly five years. Where did I go as I peeled out of that parking lot? Ok...one or two people have asked....ok...it was my mom and Andy's mom....but if you were wondering, I'll go ahead and share.
I'd like to say I went to the Grand Hotel and had a pedicure, Swedish massage and sat tranquilly in the quiet room sipping on lemon water and munching on trail mix for four hours. But no. Haircut and dramatic highlights? Nope. Lattes and granola with a few of my girls? Nyet. I went to the dentist. The DENTIST, y'all. I had to reintroduce myself to him. Last time he saw me I swear I had metal on my teeth and crisscrossing rubber bands. Not really. But almost.
When you become a mom, things like going to the dentist become a luxury. Forget spa treatments...Peeing in peace without bodies hanging off of you is something you can only dream of. So finding time to go to the dentist is about as rare a treat as I could have imagined on my liberation day.
But as always I was rushed, even as I sat strapped in the chair having a jackhammer pound away at all the tartar on my teeth, eyeing the ticker hanging on the wall thinking of all I still needed to do. My appointment had been at 11:20 and, after all the chiseling and gagging on cardboard shoehorns for all the X-rays, I finally made it to the checkout stand hoping to have time left to run by the drugstore, grocery store, health food store and the kids' Dr. to pick up blue cards before I had to be back at school at 1. I had 32 minutes.
The receptionist asked if my insurance had changed since I'd been there last. Um....I think when I was here last I was still on my parents' insurance. But I told her no, I didn't think so, we've had the same insurance for a couple of years now. She crinkled up her nose and stared at the computer screen. She asked to see my card. I handed it to her. She stared at the card. Back at the screen. Laid my card on the top of my wallet and went back to surveying the screen. She crinkled her face all up again and started typing. What, I don't know. But she typed and typed and typed. Click click click click click. Crinkled face. Looked all confused. Click click click click clickety click. Back space. Back space. Back. Space. Pause.
What in the world was she doing? I was intrigued. And annoyed. The sand was rushing out of my hourglass. She started the whole process again. She reached up, grabbed my card, stared at it again, handed it back, then got that worried crinkled look all over her face yet once again and started typing furiously.
Good lord I could have written all my information in hieroglyphics for as long as she's taking.
Finally....a few more crinkled brows and several dozen backspaces later, she said... "So.... you still live on Myrtle?"
Sheesh. All you had to do was ask....
Anyway...no cavities (amazingly) and I've already scheduled my six month checkup for February. I was flipping channels and saw a documentary on hillbillies last night and none of them had any teeth. Nary a one. Scared the crap out of me. This is one appointment I'll be keeping.