The 24th year and the dentist

"You have 37 cavities," said the dentist.
"But, I don't even have 37 teeth!" I exclaimed.
"uh-huh." was Dentist's nonchalant reply, in a so-what-matter-of-fact tone.
"But, I've never had a cavity before, and you always tell me how beautiful my teeth are every year I come in! I take very careful care of my teeth. How can this be?! I can't possibly have such cavities you speak of!"

This is how I imagined my dentist appointment would go yesterday. This is how I imagined it would go ever since my sister came home with news from her dentist 2 years ago who had informed her that 75% of people will suddenly start getting cavities once they turn the magic age of 24, even if they have never had a cavity before and even if their dental hygiene hasn't changed, and then it's all down hill from there. Well, my dental hygiene changed after that, you bet it changed. I suddenly became quite intent on flossing every single day, and I went and bought 3 bottles of mouthwash the next day, and I used it multiple times a day until it started drying my mouth out, at which time I pulled back to just once a day. The only oral hygienic habit that didn't change was the 3-6 times a day I found myself at my sink brushing my teeth. Despite these efforts, I was just sure that I would walk out of the dentist when I was 24 with my teeth looking something like this:

With these new habits established, and the old habit continued, my 24th year at the dentist has long been approaching, and as it drew nearer, I grew more wary of the dreaded visit. As everything that is never wanted does, the day came much sooner than I wanted, and not to blow the ending of the story or anything, I survived. Here's about how it went after the traditional teeth cleaning:

Dentist walks in to my kind of pounding heart, brand new dentist I have never seen before. "Hi Michelle, let's take a look in your mouth."
Gulp. Are you sure about that?
He looks into my mouth, "Hmmm. Ahhh." Whatever that means, it's making me nervous. "Well, mouths like yours are bad for our business."
"Huh" is the only thing I can grunt out. Again, don't know what that means either.
He taps a tooth here, taps a tooth there. "You're mouth is so boring! How are we supposed to keep up a business with perfect teeth like yours?"
I give a courtesy laugh, because he's still looking. No way am I getting my hopes up yet. 
He keeps talking, "I guess it's good to keep a nice balance. we would be too overwhelmed with problems if everybody had bad teeth. I guess we'll keep your good teeth around."
"Uh-huh," yet another grunt. Do they really expect you to respond? I never have figured out dentist etiquette.
"One more spot here..." He mumbles. This is it. It's all over here. Here it comes, 10 cavities in one last tooth. I'm a goner. "Now stick your tongue out like a 3-year-old." As opposed to a 24-year-old at the dentist? I stick my tongue out. "Alright, looks good! Have a good day!" Dentist leaves.
I sat up, not fully aware of what just happened, shocked. Could it really be? 24 and cavity free? I'll take it. I can relax for another month or two until it will be time to start working myself up for next year's dental appointment.

Christmas Miracle: Fiery Inferno

Q: How many females does it take to build a fire?

1 shivering body. 1 thought to build a fire in the fireplace. 30 minutes of pure sweat and gruel. 30 minutes of defeat. 30 minutes of unsuccessful fire building. 18 graded papers added to the coals. 3 minutes of flame until the papers and cardboard shrivel up and die. 5 minutes of scrounging around the house for more scrap paper and cardboard, and 6 cereal and granola bar boxes taken from cupboards followed by 3 more minutes of misleading flame. 2 girls raised hopes, and 2 girls valiant attempts. 120 minutes of movie watching after failure is admitted, and  2 blankets and 1 sweatshirt extracted to maintain warmth. 10 minutes of lounging on the couch after the movie finishes, and then approximately 1/2 second of spontaneous bursting of flame. 2 very surprised faces. X amount of time of steady fire until we decide to put it out and go to bed. 2 warmed bodies, and 2 happy hearts. 1 Christmas miracle.

A: 0, just some Christmas love.

Kiddos

I just finished up an internship at an elementary school as a speech therapist. It was such a great experience, and I can't even tell you how much I gained from all the people I worked with. Thursday was my last day, and my heart kind of hurts now. We've had many good times indeed. Kids are pretty amazing creatures, and I learned something new from them everyday. I think they taught me more than I taught them. Just see this list of things I could come up with off the top of my head:

• If you wear a ring on any finger on either hand, it means you're married. Just ask every kid that gasped as they asked if I got married over the weekend.
• My supervisor is a God, just ask the 2nd grader I was teaching opposites to--she was a child, and Mrs. Allen is "a God," not an adult.
• If somebody of the opposite gender brings you lunch, it means *gasp* you like them and you're married to them, just ask the giggly 2nd grade boys in the upper learning delayed class who witnessed a lady drop lunch off to their bachelor teacher.
• My hair is messy, not curly. Just ask the little boy with Down Syndrome who would so happily tell me every time I worked with him.
• You're never too young to start schmoozing the ladies. Just ask the 2nd grade boy who, when asked to define the word 'pretty,' immediately exclaimed the little girl's name sitting next to him without missing a beat.
• The opposite of "hot" is "ugly," just ask the learning disabled boy who asked me if by "hot" I was referring to "hot girls."
• If you're going to refer to something as "easy," don't call it a piece of cake. It only gets people's hopes up, just ask the autism unit.
• Life is full of excitement, just ask the 1st grade little girl with pretty severe mental disabilities who always finds so much joy in the hall decorations she walks past multiple times every day.
• It's embarrassing to like girls, even if you can't help yourself, just ask the two fifth grade boys who drew that such unfortunate, much dreaded slip from the conversation jar--"What girl do you like?"
• Miss Hillary (another speech therapist) is cooler than me. Just ask the kindergartner who thinks I'm the worst ever.
• Santa Clause is of course real! Just ask the questioning and confused 4th grader who came into speech, asking my opinion on the matter, and then explaining that he couldn't possibly be fake because the cookies and milk were gone every year when his dad can't drink milk and his mom hates cookies.
• As modeled by a preschooler, the only way to think is when posed in this thoughtful stance:

 

 

Leaving with several bear hugs that all but knocked me off my feet, colored cards written by my life skills class saying thank you and that they would miss me, an offer to pay me $1,000.00 if I stay by a crushing 6th grade boy, the gifting of the Miss Nelson is Missing books, and countless other thoughtful acts made me feel pretty special as I left. I'll sure miss that school. Those darn kids sure have settled into my heart and left it a little fuller, all 65 of those little rascals.