In late November of 2002, Joel asked me (on a beach in Seaside, California) to marry him. When I returned to College Station after that trip, something inside me clicked: people who are responsible enough to get married ought to floss every day. So I began flossing every single night before bed, without fail, and I still refuse to turn in for the night without flossing and using the Sonicare (see this for some associated math). I hope that Zoe will see the value of this habit.

Now growing up I had only flossed within a week of a dental appointment, in preparation and then for a few days afterward, or if there was something really gnarly in my teeth. And I had never had a cavity. Imagine my disappointment and surprise that at my first dental appointment post my grand, life-changing resolution to floss daily, I had two cavities. Shenanigans.

We finally re-upped the dental insurance* and found a dentist nearby, so today I got my teeth cleaned. Though I have always found the cleaning to be totally worth it – I love a whole mouthful of slippery, smooth teeth – the necessary steps to get there are entirely unpleasant for me. The scraping gives me the willies, and I fight the whole time not to jump out of the chair and scratch like a dog. It’s just about insufferable. So I go to a happy place in my mind, but I’m pulled out of it by the dental hygienist trying to be chatty, even though of course I can’t respond, as her hands are up in my grill. I have had some of the friendliest hygienists ever – I actually want to have a conversation with them, but I lie there and grunt politely, just like everyone else.

Anyway, today was the first dental appointment since 2003 during which I had no occlusal sticks. Huzzah.

*CLARIFICATION: We were only without dental insurance for five months. Rereading that, it sounded like I hadn’t been to the dentist since 2003; on the contrary, I have not missed a cleaning.