Hmm, what to do, what to do?

So, there I stood, up to my armpits in fiber dyes.  I was working on the blanks for the craft fair.  I had split them into four groups, since I have about 50 pieces and it's too much to do at once.  Today was the second batch, using blues, purples and pinks.  I had dye on my toes, splashed under my elbows, and on the floor.  I definitely don't work neatly.  I look as if I'm jaundiced, as I was especially careless with the yellow yesterday.  I have this stupid habit of putting on one glove and grabbing the dyed fabric with the other  - almost every single time.

The door flew open and Nikolas came running in, holding his mouth.  "Mom?  Mom, look at this!"  He held out his hand, and on his finger was a chip from his front tooth.  He had been playing football in the back yard - he's not allowed to leave our yard, since he's grounded until he's 47.  I looked over at him, and played it calm.  "Oh, wow.  Is that a piece of your tooth?  Does it hurt?" 

Yes, it hurt.  His teeth had connected with another player's head.  Ok, so I guess I'll call the dentist then.  I rinsed my hands and tossed the shirt I was working on into a baggie, zipped it up and reached for the phone.  Since it was almost 6 p.m., I thought I'd probably get their answering machine, but I knew that the dentist had his phone number on it.  It's a very small practice, with just one dentist and one hygenist.  When the receptionist answered, she told me that the dentist was "indisposed" and I should hold on.  I propped the phone between my ear and shoulder and grabbed another shirt to dye.  I slipped on my cool purple rubber gloves and upended the yellow dye, and then the pink.  I worked my way through four shirts, trying to stretch out the cramp in my neck.  I finally became so annoyed that I hung up.  I waited and waited, and after about five minutes the phone rang.  It was the receptionist, telling me that the dentist was still "indisposed", but she'd be happy to make me an appointment for Saturday afternoon.  Um, no.  I asked if there was any way to see him earlier, because, after all, he's a kid and it's painful.  AND it's a chipped tooth.

Well, no, there was only an opening for a chipped tooth on Saturday.  But.  If I wanted, she could classify it as a "toothache", and he could have the emergency slot that was designated for toothache tomorrow morning at 9.

Huh?  A non toothache emergency has to wait until Saturday, but if it's a toothache he can come in tomorrow?

Of course, I told her to say it was a toothache.  I just hope the dentist will see us tomorrow when he discovers that it's not a toothache.  Semantics.

Comments

[HolyMama!]

ha! be sure to tell him to say it 'aches', not 'hurts!'

[kalisah]

that's ridiculous! How is a broken tooth NOT an emergency???

I remember when I was a kid, my mom always said, "Just protect the teeth! Bones can grow back." Well, mostly she said it to my brother, since the most daredevil thing I ever did was rollersakte around on the sidewalk.

BTW, I can't believe you're taking up this art project! geez. Like you don't have enough going on already. You make the rest of us look bad. Verrrrry baaaaad.

[alana]

OH, that happened to me when I was in second grade!! My tooth connected with a kid's head whilst playing dodge ball. It was brillliantly painful.

Lucky for me, I already had a denstist appointment scheduled for that afternoon!!! For some time I sported a silver cap, until I got a more natural looking one. Now, dental technology has improved that they "filled" it and it looks fine.

My tooth shards are taped into my baby book.

I'm sorry N has to go through this, though.

[Sandra]

Oh for crying out loud who gives a rats rear end if it's a toothache or a chipped tooth causing the pain! Geez!

[Sandra]

Oh, if I were the doctor and knew the receptionist was telling clients I was in the crapper I'd be just a bit pissed. LOL