Flossing {and other sources of shame}

This morning I made my "once a decade" visit to the dentist.

{I can almost hear some of you shudder. Especially the dental hygienist or faithful flosser who is reading this. If you do not want to be offended or terribly disgusted, I suggest you skip to another, more "dental hygienically correct" blog so that we can still be friends.}

I feel that i do not ask much of my readers, but this request will be a big stretch.

Try though you may, it might be nearly impossible to imagine that the set of pearly whites on this stunning lassie in her early teens needed extensive dental and orthodontic care. Go ahead.

Take a peek. Stretch that old imagination of yours and behold.....

{And just to quickly answer that burning question in your mind: No, no... those are not natural curls, although my tight rod spiral perm left those who brushed by those large, loose, wavy and oh-so-healthy looking curls second-guessing if they were a result of genetics or chemical solution. And yes, the fanned out bang area was not something I just woke up with. They took about 60 minutes of manipulating in a heavy haze of Rave Level 5 to evenly fan. Look, admire...but please, don't touch! But enough about my natural beauty.}

I have had quite a long history with the dentist, oral surgeon and orthodontist. I'm sure one look at the gangly girl with teeth that, as my father used to say, looked like someone yelled "Fire!" and they all took off on different directions, made the men and women in the dental profession thrilled at the prospect of the money that could be made off of such a large and assorted mouthful of teeth. However, for all the appointments that my mother carted me to and from through the years, the inside of these dental institutions have seen nary the shadow of my face for, oh lets just say many, many moons.

Today I went in to a new office, located 2 seconds from my home. I tried to dress nice to make up for the fact that the inside of my mouth would have left them only with a 'backwoods woman from the hills of West Virginia' impression.

After filling out 20 pieces of paperwork that contained 200 questions, i was greeted cheerily by 20 year old "Suzie Q". After surviving 4 large plastic hoola hoops of various widths being jammed into my mouth for the 25 x-ray shots, she took a quick gander at my mouth with her prickly steel pick. A moment of silence. Then it came as I knew it would:

"Do you floss regularly?"

I sat there, for one split second, at a loss as how to answer. I could do what my 3 year old does when asked a question in which the answer is obvious in light of the evidence and answer opposite of that. Or I could answer "I have", but leave out the 'not since 1992' part.

But instead, I decided to quickly blurt out what was true. With no apologies. Because truthfully, I wasn't sorry and furthermore, I did not think Suzy Q was the Dental Priestess, and felt no compunction to confess to her the sin of flossing not.

"No, I do not."

Those 4 words were like a gargantuan invitation to give my perky sidekick a chance to expound on her dental knowledge with a dark warning masked in a cheery reprimand, basically leaving me to believe it will just be a matter of time until my entire body is riddled with the repercussions of not flossing regularly. It was so bad, i considered stopping at an attorney afterwards to update my will.

Instead, I assured her that after a long day of keeping my children alive and relatively happy, I will be sure to devote at least 10 minutes with the new waxy wires she slipped me in a plastic Colgate bag. Did i mention I was the recipient of a new toothbrush too? The dentist (who I found to be much more relaxed than his assistant), gently suggested that it appeared that I brush my teeth with force. He asked if my toothbrush bristles parted down the center. I said, well, I do brush my teeth rather hastily at day's end, anxious to get to bed...but I do not recall the bed of my toothbrush looking like the Red Sea at it's parting. He just smiled and slipped in a new 'extra soft' toothbrush into the already floss-filled baggie.

I walked out, equipped with materials to lead to a healthier mouth (which I sincerely do appreciate, for I do desire a healthy set of teeth) and a smile regarding Suzy Q's impassioned speech on the merits of Flossing. I think I might ask her to watch the children for a day, starting at 6am when they start to stir and when I come home at 8:30pm, the first thing I'll ask her is if she remembered to floss.

Brilliant.