Soon To Be Royalty

Jenna and I had a Mommy/Daughter date this morning and she even got to miss a morning of school to take part in it. Jenna and I went to the dentist.

I was actually a bit worried about going. I hadn't been in 4 years and I was worried about what they might find. I know, I know, what kind of scummy mouth person am I? But in my defense, during most of the past 4 years I didn't have dental insurance. Add to that the fact that we moved and had to find a new dentist, well, let's just say that I spend my life putting out fires and the big ones usually get the attention. Going to the dentist seemed like a burning marshmallow.

Did anyone else suddenly get hungry for smores?

{I would also like to add that my children have not gone 4 years without seeing dentist.}

We now have dental insurance, I found a dentist and it was time for a good scrap down. Jenna was excited to go but also a little worried so I kept her occupied in the waiting room playing with her new Ken and her High School Musical Gabriella doll and a snapping crocodile. She found the Crocodile Dentist on a waiting room table and at first we took turns pushing the crocodile's teeth down until it snapped shut. Then we took Ken and Gabriella and had them push the teeth down with their hands and arms. Gabriella needs to work on her upper body strength, while Ken-- beef cake that he is, didn't have an trouble. How would I know this? Because I was Ken. I'm always Ken, story of my life. At one point, I held up Ken with the crocodile hanging on his arm and asked Jenna (as Ken, of course) "Do I look different to you?" Hey, it totally went over with the kindergartner. Total giggle fest.

In the middle of our play time, I began to feel my lower tummy rumble. Uh oh. Julia spent most of Easter sequestered upstairs with a head ache and fever and later with vomiting. This couldn't be good. Jenna and I went to the restroom which then produced complaints from Jenna about the smell. The smell that came from me. Please tell me why public restrooms don't stock air freshener??? How embarrassing.

I felt better although I can't say the same for the person that walked in after us. We returned to the waiting room and I was soon escorted to my exam room as Jenna went to the play room to wait for her turn. As the dental hygienist began to scrap 4 years of tartar off my teeth I began to feel a familiar rumbling. Oh crappy doodles! Not yet if I could help it. As the scraping continued, followed by the polishing I wondered what one would do if they suddenly felt the immediate need to find the nearest restroom? Do you just jump up and run or do you try to be polite and nonchalant? It's probably hard to be nonchalant when your mouth is full of hands, and dental equipment as you try to convey in an understated demeanor that you need to sit on the Porcelain Throne immediately. Thankfully, my guts settled down and my cleaning was finished without any embarrassing incidents.

Jenna's turn was next and she did awesomely. No cavities-- Yay! But wait, I didn't tell you about the royalty part, did I? No, the above reference to the Porcelain Throne wasn't it. Last fall I broke a tooth, my very back molar. I had been warned several years ago that it was a likelihood since the filling in the tooth was large and the side of the tooth was weakened. Personally, I could have gone longer without fulfilling the statistic but I guess the tooth had other ideas, ideas like becoming royalty. As in a crown.

When the dentist came in and told me that I was cavity free, she also told me that I would need a crown for my tooth. "Does that mean I'm a queen now?" I asked. "Since I'm being crowned, doesn't that make me a queen?"

She laughed and said "Why, I think it does although good luck convincing your kids."

She had a point. But I have a plan to make sure there are no doubts.

I'm going to rent a diamond tiara. Yes, I did my research and you can rent a REAL diamond tiara. When I stroll around the house wearing my tiara my children will be forced to recognize and acknowledge my royalty. Now I if I can only train the babies to say "Your majesty, I need you to clean my bum."

Then my life would be perfect.