Grumpy dentists, tele-orthodontistry and excess floss

I have a dentist appointment coming up, and like most people, I’m not looking forward to it.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a meticulous dental hygiene routine. My days are book-ended with vigorous brushing sessions, floss (one must always floss) and medicated mouthwash. Even so, the dentist is sure to find something wrong, one tiny spot of weak enamel or a tooth not getting as much attention as its neighbors, and they will let me know what a terrible job I’m doing taking care of myself, all for a nominal fee.

Dentists tend to be very grumpy, but if I had to spend my days wrist deep in other people’s mouths I’d be a little cranky too. Especially banking on the fact that most people lie about their flossing habits. But at least they drive home in nice cars.

I bet a lot of floss is sold in January. It has to rank up there with gym memberships. Good-intentioned folks make New Year’s resolutions to take better care of themselves, purchase a whole bunch of floss, typically in the form of some expensive gadget supposed to make the chore easier, and then give up after a couple of days of spitting blood into the bathroom sink. All that floss ends up in the landfill, trapping birds and other wildlife. Birds love floss apparently, but, sadly, they don’t have teeth or hands to use it with.         

A new law in the great state of Georgia allows for tele-dentistry. I’m not sure how that’s supposed to work, turn the camera to selfie mode, open wide and put the lens in your mouth. Don’t forget to turn on the flashlight. I’m sure the doctor will still find something to fuss about. At least you can hang up on him.

I’ve invested a tidy sum of money in teeth over the past decade. Kids grow them and lose them at an alarming rate. I’m pretty sure my daughter is part shark. We gave up the tooth fairy charade in my house fairly early in her life because I was going broke.

Speaking of growing broke, all of my offspring needed orthodontist work, so I’m paying a lot of people to poke around their mouths. I wonder how long before that line of work goes remote? Just mail me a spool of wire and solder, poorly translated instructions and a good luck note.

I have a small chip in one of my front teeth. I got it playing a jaw harp, you know of those metal framed instruments you put in the mouth that makes that “boing, boing” sound? The box warns you that it could mess your teeth up, but I heeded not their warning.

You cannot trust someone with perfect teeth though. If you see someone with a complete set of pearly whites, perfectly aligned, they bought them. There again, too few teeth come across poorly, too. A normal person is expected to have some coffee stains, a gap here or there and at least one broken tooth.

Even so I’ll think I’ll go floss one more time before I head to the dentist’s office.