Monday, 10 March 2008

Ivory Poachers

Only last week Suburban Correspondent
was discussing the subject of Dentistry - it caused lots of comments - all in the same vein (or should that be molar), so when I took number 2 to the Dentist on Friday I TRIED to have a positive outlook and not pass on my fear of the Dentist.

The Dentist is after ivory.... four to be precise - great big horrible adult molars which have crumbled- irritatingly not as a result of bad brushing or too many sweets... but due her contracting Chicken Pox when she was a baby.

Chicken pox in the very young 0-6 mths can cause hyperplastic enamel (lay man's description: non-existent enamel formation) - and just as nobody describes the joys of the teenage years when you are pregnant, no-one had ever told me that this could happen.
Apparently it is terribly common - just not to those mothers who have their deliberate chicken pox parties!

Anyhow, here we are yet again at the dentist, waiting for the verdict on the condemned lumps of ivory, I'm quaking in my boots (still having too much remembrance of braces past) Number 2 however, is cool as the proverbial cucumber, and insists on studying her x-rays.

The Dentist in slightly sneering tone asked her if she knew "what this was?"...he was pointing at a molar forming in her gum.
As only my child can, she sighed deeply (giving the impression that he really had failed to tax her) and replied

"That's my sevens." there was a pause while the dentist looked a little rattled...he had obviously underestimated her...

"So what is this"..he quickly pointed at another tooth

"Well, that's a 4, of course" No 2 rolled her eyeballs at me - giving me the 'can you believe this chap's a dentist?' look.

He should have guessed it was time to quit...but no, "So what books do you read?"

Another deep sigh, followed by "Well at the moment I've read all my books, so I'm reading Jeremy Clarkson, it's really amusing, but the next book I want to read is Northanger Abbey". (this is the bookworm whom we found at midnight, reading the bible under the duvet because she wanted a "longer" read.)

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" (Fool, my nine year old is already thinks she is aged 50 year old)

"Well, when I was six I wanted to be a part time Dentist, and last week I pulled out my sisters tooth, but now..." she gives him a look of pity "...now, I'm not sure."

"Part time?" he queried, "Why part time?"

This time he got the despairing look "Because Dentists earn SO much, I would only NEED to work part time."

Well dear readers, I have to tell you the Dentist sat with his mouth beautifully open.

And should we wish to know how it comes to pass that Dentists scare us, we need only look at the children who became Dentists...