Hodu L'Adonai

So I find myself in the chair and mostly prone, as I succumb to the effects of the novocaine administered by the good-natured dentist, Dr. M. The drilling is what really gets me. Well, that is not completely true. The smells of cut tooth get me too, as well as the sounds of the screeching ultrasound wand meant to cut through the plaque. OK, so all-in-all, I despise visiting the dentist. And as I struggle, through tears mind you, not to vomit all over sweet, good-natured Dr. M, something catches my eye. Above my head, I glimpse a half-dozen faded "smiley face" stickers on the ceiling. Is this someone's idea of a joke? Or could it be a half-hearted attempt at providing joviality for the patient? When I inquire, Dr. M responds that perhaps something else might lend comfort to the anxious patient. "I completely agree," I say. He says, "maybe a massaging headrest?" "Maybe an epidural," I say. He laughes.

Why do people laugh at me? I wasn't joking...not in the slightest bit was this an attempt at humour. I was making a solid suggestion backed by the fact that having had two children I can expertly state that dental work is the worst pain I have ever experience. Of course, since I DID have an epidural with Beernut and Poppyseed...

In any event, in my everlosing battle of being Supermom, I have (finally) scheduled Beernut for an appointment with the dentist. Not Dr. M, who will be out-of-the-country during the holidays, but with another one in the practice. As suggested by every parenting expertise in the entire world, I will submit to a cleaning in front of said child in order to model the importance of a dental visit. Of course, I will be taking something to "take the edge off" in the hopes that I in no way scar the child for life. That runs in the family, BTW. I watched my DM for years as she would take a little something before her electrolysis...to make it less excrutiating.

An interesting point. Why is it that we women (yes, guys -- I am excluding you here b/c generally speaking it is women who go to such incredible lengths) are willing to experience pain, humiliation, and so forth in order to make ourselves presentable? Forget beautiful...beautiful is a whole other level. I mean, I sometimes spend hours at the salon undergoing treatments in order to feel more confident, more sassy, less hairy, etc. Shouldn't I be satisfied with all that God has given me?? [Note to God: I am oversatisfied...You might consider cuting back on what You gave me!!]