Wednesday, May 8, 2013

The Dentist

Yesterday I took all three kids to the dentist.  There have never been three kids more excited about a dental visit than my three kids. 

They were ecstatic.  The only stress they felt was over what type of tooth polish to choose:  cookie dough or strawberry.

Oh, and what prize to choose....that is ALWAYS an ordeal.  Why in the world a pediatric dentist that handles kids all the time gives them no less than 15 different prize options is beyond me.  The hygienists are seriously asking for WWIII to break out when they tell my kids they can only choose 1 out of the 15 prize options and demand they make their decision in 10 seconds flat. 

The stress in Olivia's poor eyes when pressured to choose between a seashell bracelet, a squishy frog, a hot pink plastic turtle, and a sparkly bouncy ball is almost too much for a mother to bear (read:  My patience is waning...just pick a dang toy...we all know that you are going to  lose it on the way home and proceed to whine about it for the next seriously...just pick a toy NOW!).  After trading in her choice three times, she finally settled on the hot pink turtle that she named Tiny Tim. She proceeded to sing the accompanying song to her beloved turtle the remainder of the day and as of this morning, we have no idea the whereabouts of  hot pink Tiny Tim. 

Zach, my natural born negotiator, spent no less than 10 minutes trying to determine how he could bargain with the hygienist to get more than the 1 allotted toy. 

"Can I trade in my sticker for an additional toy?" 
"Well, if I don't take any sticker at all then I can just have 2 toys?" 
"A tattoo isn't really a then I can have a tattoo and a toy?"
"Is this no cavity raffle ticket good for another toy?"
"So I can pick 2 toys and 1 sticker, right?"
"NO.  Just 1 toy Zach."
"Well, then can I trade in my toothbrush for a toy."
"This floss thingy that I won't use?"

He finally settled on a foam paper airplane contraption...that he broke upon putting together the moment we arrived home.

Allie.  Oh my dear Allie.  Allie has never been known for her speed in decision making.  She had to go through each toy choice scenario, audibly covering the whole gamut of pros and cons regarding every available toy and how it would help or hinder her throughout the duration of her life.  Then, when she finally resolved that the seashell bracelet was the best choice, mostly because I was going to let her wear it to school, the hygienist reminded Allie that she needed to help her put back in the earrings that had to be removed for the X-Ray. 

The hygienist was rather unsuccessful at finagling the earrings into Allie's newly pierced holes and feeling guilty that she had been the sole reason my 7-year old lost all remaining composure and now had tears streaming down her blotchy red face, she gave Allie a huge hug and then told her that she could go and pick another toy.  FOR THE LOVE!  ARE YOU SERIOUSLY NUTS, LADY?!  DID YOU NOT JUST SEE HOW LONG IT TOOK HER TO PICK ONE TOY?!  AAACK!

Of course Allie managed to pick out the most annoying clacker toy that she stuffed away in her backpack, only to whip it out on the way home from school where she began relentlessly clacking it despite my pleading with her to stop so that she wouldn't wake up Olivia who was sleeping right next to her in the car.  After blatantly ignoring my five requests, I confiscated the clacker.  All I have heard about since yesterday's confiscation is how unfairly she has been treated, followed by incessant begging for its return. 

Apparently, despite our complete lack of any toys remaining intact from yesterday's dental visit, life miraculously proceeded forward today.

Thank goodness we only have to go through that twice a year.

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