cylas life Of Food and Love: first dentist visit
by Mommy Hobbies
In my napsack stash
I may as well have said, “Cylas, you’re going to the tooth-ripper”, because he was scared. Yesterday was Cy’s first visit to the dentist. I picked him up after school and headed straight for the dentist’s office. Cy was really, really quiet. Like, disconcertingly so… my child is only quiet when he’s asleep. I lie not.
“Whatchya thinkin about, hunny?”
“The dentist. I’m scared.”
“What? Why, baby, there is nothing to be afraid of…”
“Well, why do I have to open my mouth soo wide? Like ALL the way open?”
I made reassuring sounds and he stopped worrying, for a little bit. Then, I got lost. Don’t ask me how. This town has one main street that runs through then a bunch of side streets and alleys. Cylas knew I was lost and asked me what my problem was. Dude. I don’t know, why do there have to be so many alleys and side streets? I looped around two times, then, I found it.
I snapped a couple of pictures and we started up the sidewalk.
Cylas got distracted in the bushes behind me, then I heard him yell, “He doesn’t have a jacket on, mom, why?” So, there I am, peering through the bushes, looking at some guy in a tank top, standing in the rain only to realize, he was peeing in the bushes!!
I grabbed Cy and started hustling down the walkway REALLY fast. Only to find out that we were at the WRONG dentists office. Yes, after getting lost, looping in circles, spying on a urinating man, we managed to park in ANOTHER dentist’s lot and barge in. Worst first dentist visit in the history of a five year old’s life. No joke.
No fears, we only had to walk three whole blocks down to the right office.
The sweet dentist had to have been in his late 70′s and wouldn’t you know…Cylas noticed, too. No sooner had his little bottom sat in the big chair he says, “You’re getting old. You’re going to die.” These are the moments when I would GLADLY welcome a fireball from heaven striking down and hitting somewhere in the room, making just enough noise to drown out such embarrassing moments. Or, a sinkhole would have been nice…
Mr. Amos, all smiles, turns around and says, “What?” Me. Trying to act like nothing happened tells him nothing is the matter…but he heard. He repeated Cy’s words and I’m over there with my mouth open, kind of sucking at the air, not coming up with anything witty or even a transitional phrase like, “Oh, my, would you look at the size of his canines.” Shoot. Me.
The dentist was impressed with his teeth, said that his canines were a “healthy size” and then offered him a plastic ring for his troubles. We left with a bunch of toys made in…well, whatever, we left with a bunches of throwaway toys, a happy little camper and an embarrassed mother who is seriously considering carrying large cotton balls in her purse for such occasions that her child opens his mouth to say anything unseemly.