The Dentist

Caleb had his first trip to the dentist, and he did just fine.

It was funny because the hygienist, who is wonderful with kids and also just a really nice human being, offered to turn on the TV for Caleb to help distract him. I sort of assumed because he almost never gets to watch TV that he would love it, but he was too busy being alarmed at the fact that his chair was buzzing and moving, and this giant light was flashing in his face, with metal tools coming into his mouth.

I literally had to pry him open for the first run, but after that Caleb did great with the inspection and the polishing.

I wish I had a picture of him in the chair, but for now, this celebration of clean teeth will have to suffice.

Even better news is that I am also cavity free.

People always comment on how amazing my teeth look, and maybe I had braces when I was younger (nope) or maybe I use whitening strips (nope), but in actual fact my teeth are in terrible condition despite constant and vigilant oral hygiene and possibly a few extra rain dances before seeing the dentist.

In fact, I’ve been seeing this dentist since I was in high school, in Hamilton, and despite a decade of living in Toronto, we still trek out to see him every nine months (or more) because my teeth are very important to me.

Every once in a while Jon asks if we can switch to a Toronto dentist, to which I respond with a look.

I say it’s because I want a dentist I can trust (he is very trustworthy) with all of my issues, including cavities and root canals and crowns, but Jon wonders if the common denominator in all the issues is the dentist (it’s not, he’s really very, very trustworthy).