Little Moby Homemaker: Domestic God

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Mental Dental

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Moby Homemaker

I am an out of work "At Home Dad" who has risen from the ashes like an overweight, over worked, under paid phoenix to become a "Domestic God"

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This Domestic God does a lot of bitching about the crappy jobs that have been unwantedly thrown into my lap.  Today, I believe that I found the truly worst one of all!  I am writing this as a tired, beaten and psychologically scarred Dad.  My 5-year-old son "Little Rusty" and I have just returned from a trip to the Dentist.

Apparently, last year, Rusty would not open his mouth for the family dentist.  This is shocking to me; because normally we can't  shut this little guy up.  Anyway, after his uncooperative display at our family's dentist, Rusty was referred to a dentist who "specializes in children".  I don't know much, but I was able to read between the lines on this one.  Rusty was heading to the dentist for "the freaked out kids".  Luckily for me, I was out of work and at home to take my youngest son to his first visit to Dr. Teith.

I had made sure to set the first appointment of the day.  I felt this would be the best chance for me and my son to get out as quickly as possible.  Well, to my delight they had booked two other "patients" at 8:00am as well.  So, right from the moment we walked in, we were waiting.  When the Hobbit voiced receptionist got to me, she made me fill out the appropriate forms, as well as countless thoroughly unnecessary ones.  Fathers are treated as extra slow adults there.  Obviously, this dentist shit is a Mommy's game.  I was perplexed when the forms asked for e-mail addresses, cell phone numbers, text addresses, snail mail addresses and voicemail numbers.  I should've sensed then--that people who came here never wanted to come back!

After waiting much longer than we should have for being the "first" appointment of the day, they took Little Rusty back to see Dr. Teith.  Parents are not allowed to accompany their children to the back--and I soon found out why.  As I watched Toni Braxton on the "Today Show" with the other disgruntled parents, a noise came from the back of the office.  It started out like the sound of a cat fight (a real one--not two hot scantily clad chicks, like you see on Skinemax), it then morphed into the horrible screams one might hear in the film "Hostel".  Soon, it became apparent that one of the kids in the back wasn't down with the proceedings and freaked the fuck out!!!  The little freaker then jumped out of the chair and started a post toddler insurrection!

I'm sure Dr. Teith and his staff are used to this, but I was kinda thrown for a loop when a hygenist burst out and grabbed a 17-year-old mother and the 17 year old's mother to exclaim, "Hogan's outta control--we need your help to sedate him!"  Sedate him???  Holy shit!

After about five minutes things seemed to cool out and the teenage mother and her mother (who wasn't much older than me) returned.  I overheard them saying that  Hogan had been administered nitris oxide "so they could x-ray him".  Wow, all this for a little ol' routine x-ray???  I was the one who was in need of the nitris f'ing oxide.  The shrieking from this minor but boisterous "kiddie riot" had left my nerves dulled and fragile.

As I watched the complimentary one channel tv and saw a commercial showing the dentist's office with "the happy kids", all I could do is dream of being on a golf course or even in line at the DMV.  Either place sounded more pleasurable than this house of horrors.  Shortly thereafter, I was called to retrieve Little Rusty and talk to Dr. Teith.  As I made my way to the back I saw Hogan, you remember him--the one boy dental revolutionist.  And so help me God, he was tied down to a table a la Hannibal Lector in "The Silence of the Lambs".  It was shocking and scary--yet fucking hysterical!!!

Dr. Teith told me that Little Rusty had done wonderfully after the chaos had subsided and that he had no cavities.  He gave me Rusty's paperwork and I took them to check out.  The Hobbit receptionist asked when I would like to schedule Little Rusty's next visit.  I told her that I would get back to her, because when that "next time" comes, I'm going to make sure that I either 1) have a job or 2) take Rusty to the dentist I saw on tv...the one with "the happy kids".

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1 Comment

Daisy said:

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Oh my! I'm glad it wasn't little Rusty who had the meltdown at least! :-) I hate all those forms they make you fill out. Seems quite unnecessary to me.

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