Gratituesday

It’s time once again for my weekly blog feature and once again, I really am having a tough time. Last week I didn’t write anything at all for Gratituesday. I was feeling kind of blah and all I could come up with was that I was grateful for the TV. I was gonna write a poem, Ode to the TV,  in haiku form, but the only line I could think of was “Curious George Rocks”. I couldn’t decide whether that should be the first or last line and then the grammar teacher in me got to wondering whether or not I could write an ode in haiku form. Is that even allowed?

So now here we are. A week later. Gratituesday. Again. And today, despite my little “perspective” post of a few days ago, I can’t think of anything real good to blog about. You see, today I have to go to the dentist. Again. And if you know me at all, you know I loathe going to the dentist. I’d rather give birth without an epidural than go to the dentist. And I know a little something about what that feels like, so you know it’s true.

I suppose I should be grateful that I live in a country where we have dentists and all that. But. I’m just not feeling it. Now don’t go thinking that I don’t take care of my teeth. I do. I brush my teeth more times a day than anyone I know. I like to have a clean mouth.

Some people say they love that just-fresh-from-the-dentist-clean-feeling. I don’t get that either. What’s clean about going to the dentist? First off, it smells in there. I don’t know what it is, but dentist offices always smell like that and it does not smell lemony-fresh. Then, you gotta go lie in a chair where some perfect stranger has just laid their head. That gives me the willies. I don’t like airplanes for that reason either. After that, at least two other perfect strangers are going to put their hands in your mouth. Sure, they’ve got gloves on, but still. Then they supposedly clean your teeth. It doesn’t feel clean to me. It feels all gritty. I always have to brush my teeth again when I get home because it just feels gritty.

I suppose I should be grateful for my husband since he’s coming home from work early (taking half a sick day) to take care of the kids while I go to the dentist (and after I come home). But the way I figure it, he owes me. He’s the one who made me go to the dentist in the first place. He’s kind of, um, how can I say this nicely? He’s um, rigid, about going to the dentist. I’ve gone twice now without him (once for the so-called-cleaning and once for fillings) The last time was so awful that there was no way I was going back again without him here to deal with the children. He’s cooking dinner tonight, too. And he should probably bring home some tulips for me to make me feel better.

Then I would have a good Gratituesday post.