A few weeks ago I relunctantly dropped my son off at my sister's house, and drove sullenly to the One Place I Hate Above All Others. I got out of my car, and trudged slowly through the door into...
...The Dentist's Office.
I can't really articulate to you how much I detest going to the dentist. It's so invasive and weird. I'd rather go to the gynecologist. Really.
Add that to the fact that a few years ago I didn't have insurance, so I COULDN'T go, and it has been around three years since my last visit. At least. PLUS I have weak enamel and mild TMJ. It was an all around GOOD TIME.
With the arrival of Jack's teeth (he is now up to four!) I started thinking about when to start brushing with him. I want him to learn healthy teeth habits, and I knew that that would start with me. So, with only a LITTLE prodding from my husband, I went. My old dentist had retired, so this guy was all new to me, but as far as dentists go...I guess he's pretty awesome.
SOMEHOW my old dentist had managed to miss the fact that I must grind my teeth something fierce when I am asleep. Dude took one look in my mouth and was all "You have the teeth of a fifty year old!".
Horrifying. Just horrifying.
And as if that weren't bad enough, I have to be fitted with a NightGuard. SEXY.
With the help of the NightGuard, Jack might just be an only child. I wonder if they come in purple glitter like the retainer my friend Nikki had in Jr. High?