I'm glad I'm not a pediatric dentist. My daughter is reason #1 I'm not a pediatric dentist. She is a demon when it comes to dental exams. She kicks, screams, hits, bites, and causes all manner of harm and destruction.
Luckily our dentist in Paducah was VERY patient and kind. He would take her back by herself while Misty and I wiated nervously in the Waiting Room. Then we would hear a faint, blood curdling scream and hope it was Abby and not one of the dental assistants. I half expected Abby to burst into the room with a hygenist in a head lock holding a hypodermic to her throat. It never happened.
Eventually, the assisstant calls us back and we see our dainty little girl sitting defeatedly on the exam table. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. Her face is red as a beet. She's looking proudly at a Barbie sticker.
She's going to a new dentist today. I hope it's not quite business as usual.
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(Get it? It rhymes.) semi-interesting gibberish from the life and mind of Scott Coats
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