Susiej

I have my system for our six-person family’s dental cleanings down to a science. I’ve learned in life not to try to accommodate other people’s needs, who are getting paid to service me; I make it as easy on myself as possible, and let them figure it out. Here’s the drill:

• The next six month cleaning is scheduled at the end of the last visit, so that we don’t forget.
• Scheduling in advance like this allows us to get the prime AM appointments, when there is no 20-40 minute wait.
• I enter it on our universal google calendar — that combined with the dentist’s reminder phone calls, and we never miss a date.
• We go all on the same day.

This means, there are two hygienists at the dentist, each one working on three family members. The hygienists, these two wonderful, chatty, loving ladies just smile and talk all the way through it, and don’t even blink an eye when I arrive with four boys in tow. They’re so happy to see my boys, and through experience with a lot of kids, know that it’s best to show everything to curious little minds so they don’t become afraid.

My boys are pretty talkative, and ask lots of questions, so the hygienists are always carefully pulling down the false teeth model, to show them how they count teeth. They squirt the water in their mouth so they can see what it feels like. The show them the little sink and where and how it drains.

Until they’re too big to stay in the car-seat carrier on the floor, the little guys sit on my lap while my teeth are cleaned. She turns them around to face me, and she explains every little step, along the way, so that they’ll know exactly what will happen when it’s their turn.

The benefit? I’m not stuck with metal implements in my mouth trying to keep up a conversation — I can just sit and and enjoy not having to do a thing, while the hygienist entertains my sons. Ahhh, I know, what you’re thinking. The luxurious life I lead.

So yesterday at 8 a.m. was the date of 6 month appointment. I had it all planned. Husband and oldest son would go first at 8. That way, he could get off to work, and I wouldn’t have to wait the entire time trying to occupy all the boys in the waiting room. I would show up around 8:20 or so, just when they were finishing up, so that we could get right in, and no wait.

However, I arrived a little early, 8:10, to a new hygienist, someone I will now call Miss Hissy. I gave our name, and she goes off on some kind of tirade about how they’ve been frantically trying to contact me (no messages?!) because there are 3 hygienists today, and they were tag-teaming us, 3 on 3. And where, have I been all morning?

Ummm hummm… are you new? Miss Hissy has been with the office for ten years, but only works on Mondays, and I begin to explain, while she interrupts with this “We’ll see if what we can do to work you in… I’m not making any promises.” Good grief. Ten minutes.

I’m a tired woman, I’m learning that it’s just best to not argue with people like this, keep my mouth shut and save my energy for more important things. So, I give her my look that says simply, “So, are you going to take us now, or turn it into a 20 minute delay… because I don’t have time for this lecture.”

We go back, and I head into my normal routine, but she pulls out a little chair for my boys to sit on. No lap cleaning today. She explains it’s “dangerous” as I could get poked by a sharp instrument. I look at her and realize how unhappy she is with me, and choose not to argue with her on that one. My guy can’t sit still. He knows that dental office like his own bedroom, and he wanders over to the treasure box, stops in the adjoining rooms to say Hi to his brothers, and say Hi to the other hygienists that he knows so well…. Miss Hissy has a fit.

There is a strange phenomenon, that Miss Hissy’s daughter has yet to successfully teach her mother, that happens whenever you tell a kid to stop doing something. They become more persistent. Almost as if they have a “calling” to do the opposite of what you just said. They have heard this: “Please keep wandering around the office and get on my nerves.” Because that’s exactly what the little guys did. She stops, several times, scraping my teeth to unsuccessfully rein my boys back in… and I’m thinking about her need to rush. I’m remembering how calm and well-behaved my boys were when they sat on my lap during these visits, and how much I miss their warm little bodies on top of my legs.

I notice that the two nice hygienists are just smiling like nothing’s going on, and completely ignore Miss Hissy’s frantic shenanigans. Thanks, a lot, I breathe to them. Without my son in my lap, I’m forced to endure her life story. How she manages to feed me all this information while chasing my boys, is bewildering, but she did it. She has a daughter, and they’ve been kicked out of four different daycare centers because “they just can’t make it to the pick-up times.” Traffic, she explains. Hmmmm. I start to become a little bit judgemental, as I remember the reprimand she gave me earlier this morning. But, I refrain myself again.

It’s now 9:25, and her 9:20, Matt, has yet to arrive. Miss Hissy calls up to the front desk, “Will you please call to find out where my 9:20 is? At 9:40, we are all done, no cavaties, thanks to this, and I’m scheduling my next appointment, quietly saying that “Monday’s are no good for us,” when Matt, the 9:20 walks in.

OMG. Is all I can think. Matt is cute in a boyish way, with his auburn deshelved hair from what looks like a “good night’s sleep.” He’s wearing army fatigue shorts, flip flops, and yesterday’s t-shirt, which he undoubtedly slept in, and is two sizes too small. The shirt says simply, “Got Ups?”As a mother of boys, I can’t help but think that one day my boys will be heading to the dentist all by themselves, making appointments in advance. Yet, Matt has a distinct odor. He smells exactly like “reefer madness.”

Miss Hissy… you’re next appointment has arrived.

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