I Can't Say I Blame Him...

Look at these cute little lip balms...


As you can see from the tape dispenser behind them, they're quite small - about an inch and a half tall.   Our dentist's office gives them out after office visits, especially if they've done an especially grueling procedure and have kindly offered them to keep our lips from completely cracking under the strain. 

We have a lot of these at our house, because we seem to go to the dentist a lot these days.  In fact, I wanted to search down every one and take a picture of the huge number of them, to show the exact number.  However, I'm always sending them off to school with the boys or tucking them into coat pockets, so it wasn't worth the time to hunt them down.  You'll just have to trust me on this one -  we are well-stocked in lip balms.

We really have found the most wonderful dentist here, thanks to a referral from my friend Gay.  Everyone in the office is very kind and helpful, and the dentist himself is great with the boys.  (Except that Jacob especially doesn't like it when he is giving you a pain shot and as the needle goes into the gum, he says every time, "Okay, I'm going to take this really slowly, so that it doesn't hurt more than it needs to...") Which makes me want to dig my fingernails into the armrests of my computer chair even as I write this (making it very hard to type).

But this is the only negative thing (besides the actual procedures).  They are usually very prompt about getting to you quickly, but I guess when we went yesterday they were unusually busy.  Jacob was getting a small cavity filled, and he said they took him back, set him up and said, "The doctor will be right in."  But he wasn't right in, and by Jacob's (non-existent) watch he said he had to sit there for about twenty or twenty five minutes. 

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed when I heard this.  "Maybe they forgot about you.  Did you call out occasionally and say, 'Hell-ooo, I'm still in here'?" 

"No," he answered.  "I just did this a lot", and gave a long, loud, annoying sniff of his currently runny nose. 

Yep.  Just like one slurps loud on the straw of an empty drink just when the waitress walks by, my son is learning the ins and outs of nonverbal communication.

Unfortunately, all of that sniffing didn't seem to be too fruitful for him - he still had to wait.  Now, if it had been me working in that office, that would have had me running in there in about two sniffs.  At least I would have thrown some tissues over the divider from the next patient area.  But it all turned out just fine. 

Plus, we have a new lip balm to add to our collection.

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