Looks Like I Need to Work on My Answers

As a rite of passage, and in acknowledgement of their atrocious breath, the kiddos and I headed to the dentist. Before the appointment, I told them a little bit about what would happen when they were there and described some of the equipment in the office. They both did great, no tears or hesitations. The dentist said both of their grills looked good; healthy with nothing to worry about.


On our way out, the little man wanted to know why we had to go to the dentist. I explained that it was because his mouth smelled like something had crawled in there and died, and that the dentist could fix that. He then asked me with a very worried look what sort of thing had crawled into his mouth. I don't think he got the joke. And I also don't think the little man will be sleeping with his mouth open for a very long time.

For her part, the only question my girl had after the appointments was why the dentist kept asking her questions when he had his hands in her mouth and she couldn't talk. My philosophical response that she had just stumbled upon one of the great mysteries of the world was not appreciated. She rolled her eyes at me and told me I was weird.