Dust off my WHAT?

So my dentist's name has many synonyms: uncontrolled, unruly, uncivilized, barbaric.  He is none of these things in the office.  He is smart and friendly and funny.  He seems to be in control of himself and his staff, follows expected rules, and carries no whiff of barbarism.  His name can also mean "deviating from the expected or normal course."  It is the latter that comes to mind today.  

I don't know who programmed his musical offerings today but I think they were messing with the N2O nozzle before they set up the playlist.  There was come classic office friendly soft rock, then something that sounded like the Mexican Restaurant next to his office, a little Sinatra, and then Amy Winehouse.  But not the "Rehab" you might expect.  It wasn't even "Cherry" which is my favorite because it is clever.  It was the *explicit* cut of "Fuck Me Pumps".  Not generally part of your typical dentist office repertoire.  I was numb up to my eyeball at the time (have you ever not been able to feel yourself blink?  It is a little freaky) so I forgot to point it out when he came back in the room.  

But I think it is safe to say while he is generally civilized and completely ruly, he definitely deviated from the norm with that one.  But now I can't stop giggling thinking about what the older lady in the room must have looked like if she caught the words: half numb, slack-jawed, and wide eyed wearing her clip-on bib.  There is no mistaking the lyrics in the last line of the song as Amy so thoughtfully enunciates and slows down just like her third grade teacher taught her to when speaking publicly.  

Pro Rida (subtitled, Go With The Pro)

The new packaging on my tampons says "pro comfort." I wonder if they mean professionally comfortable or rather that they are in favor of comfort. Having used their tampons for 2/3 of my life, I would like to think of myself as a professional caliber user in favor of a cozy product. It seems silly to have to mention it but I guess I certainly wouldn't buy anything for my chocha marketed as "anti comfort." Perhaps just being next to the "pro comfort" on the store shelf implies that the other would somehow be less than that. Like they are against your being your most cozy during that special time. Or perhaps that the others are merely amateurish attempts at feeling good while managing your flow.

they call him The Streak

According to the contents of the Lost and Found at school, Big C appears to have come home partially clad on multiple occasions.  I don't remember picking him up barefoot (twice) or topless (thrice).  But I must have.  I'd like to review the security tapes.  I really can't imagine how that could have slipped by me.  What does this say about the possible decline of my once-impressive powers of observation?  And what does it say about the quantity of outerwear that kid has that I can find two sweaters and a sweatshirt in that stinkity pile that I never even knew were missing?

Nevermore

Qualifier: I could not make this shit up.

The conversation at the dinner table about what each person's patronus (expecto patronum!) would be was quite interesting.  Miss M would have a raccoon (dexterous, puzzle solving, similar eating habits).  Big C a loyal, protective dog.  Moose would have a bear but not a moose.  Little C would have a playful and clever otter.  This is what I got:

Miss M: Mom would have some kind of bird...

Mama: A duck?

Big C: No, a turkey.

Moose: What?

Big C: Because they are so intelligent.  They are like the smartest bird ever.  Benjamin Franklin thought they should be our national symbol, not the bald eagle.

Miss M: Is it the crow or the raven that has the messy feathers and spends it's time alone?

Mama: The raven.

Miss M: Then you are the crow because they are more social.

Little C: I think a crabby bird.  Geese are crabby.  Cause mom, you are always crabby so I think it would be a goose.

Big C: She is only so crabby because we are so naughty.

Moose: Little C, apologize to your mother.

Mama: (If it wasn't for that shot of gin in my lemonade tonight I'd be going goose on all your asses right about now.  I think that raven thing sounds better and better all the time.)

I am under-qualified for this

How do you decide which horrible, nasty drug to give your kid in an effort to try and put his horrible, nasty condition into remission?  When the milder things do not work and you move up a level to shutting down his immune system, how do you decide which medication you should poison him with?

a Fresh New Author

Here is a book written by my very own 6 year old!  

"My mom and I watch Tv.

My mom and I read Instruchons.

My mom and I play Legos.

My mom and I eat Petzza.

My mom and I go to School.

My mom and I like to Talk."

We DO read instructions together!  He loves it.  And I love his amazing phonetic spelling.  Then...and this is great...he drew me with some super long legs!  And, he modestly scribbled a black-out bar across the chest of my stick figure.  No pants, but the girls are covered.

Runny Fabbitt

At physical therapy today the pain in my hip had finally subsided enough to address the SI issues.  My therapist told me I should start to thinking that I might not be able to run.  Ever.  Without some surgical intervention to fuse my pelvis.  Youch.  I can deal with no more running.  But then I started listing all of the other things I like to do and as long as they don't hurt and don't jar my joints I am all good.

He showed me how to self-adjust my SI joints and you know what?  I was sore after hitting golf balls but tried the little maneuver in the car at a stop sign and it worked!  When I got out of the car I felt great.

Also, he adjusted my pubic bone.  That one always shocks me as it is accompanied by some loud noise.  I think the people in the next room over might have heard it.  He showed me how to have Moose help realign it at home.  To which I said nothing.  I sort of froze.  Mostly because two things popped in my head at the same instant and I couldn't decide which response would be funnier.  One of them is true and one is false.  Can you guess which?

A.  That's assuming he could finally find my pubic bone!

or

B.  It's only fair as he's the one that keeps knocking it out of place!