I used to think it was ridiculous for people to get uptight about going to the dentist. Never bothered me, and I'd had all kinds of work done. Sure it's a bit uncomfortable having the ice pick they use to administer freezing hammered into the roof of your mouth, but once they're done that you just relax, let them do what they gotta do, and enjoy taking a nice little break from having to swallow your own spit all the time.
And then I aged out of the children's dentist and had to go to the grown ups' dentist. Things were different there. Well, one thing was different. That one thing changed everything, though.
The grown ups' dentist didn't give me the happy nose. I'd never actually known what the happy nose was. I knew that I must have looked very silly with that big rubber thing on my face, and I was a very self-conscious child as a rule. For some strange reason, though, I didn't mind the happy nose. I didn't mind the happy nose at all. It was heavy, it made me look funny, and it smelled strange, but I had absolutely no problem with the happy nose. No. Happy nose was fine. I was good with the happy nose.
I sure figured out what it was for in a hurry when it wasn't there anymore.
What gives? Why should kids get all the good drugs? Isn't it enough that they get all the best presents at Christmas, the piece of cake with the flower on it at birthday parties, free room and board and two months off every summer so that they can, shall we assume, work on their novels, renovate the kitchen, and attend to all of the other urgent priorities they have over getting an education so that they can start supporting themselves? They have all that and they have to hog the happy noses too?
Well frankly that is just plain ungracious. There. I've said it.
So it turns out I'm not as blissfully mellow about hearing the music of heavy industry emanating from my teeth as I'd thought. Evidently I simply lack the self awareness necessary to know when I'm completely stoned. Couple that with the fact that my grown ups' dentist doesn't have the decency to let me pick out a toy no matter how well I behave myself, and no. I do not like going to the dentist at all anymore. But get this - I saved the biggest injustice for last.
Apparently when these teeth fall out, I don't get to grow a new set. Unlike some sugar crunching, toy hoarding individuals I know. So it's not like I really have a choice, now is it?
12 hours ago