Hair Dentist

Yesterday I had to pull out both kids from school before lunch to take them to the dentist. The dentist we go to is in the city. It’s a schlep. The problem is that the dentist is great. Our particular dentist is particularly great, but the whole damn staff is great. Everyone is friendly and knowledgeable. They build in extra time because they know it’s hard for the kiddos. Gah! It sucks.

It took forever to get there. The appointment took forever. And then it took forever to get back home. And with the late lunch (that threw off the rest of the day) I couldn’t make it back in time for them to get back to school. Of course, Nola and Judah were fine with that.

As it happened I’d also scheduled a late afternoon haircut for Judah. He likes it short on the side and long on top. But not when the top gets into his eyes.

Anyway, Judah’s teeth and hair were in good shape as we walked back to the car from the barber.

“I got a bit for you, bud.”

“What’s a bit?”

“Like a joke, something funny.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow,” I said, “when you’re at school and everyone asks where you were today, you can say you were at the dentist and also the hair dentist. And when they say, ‘Hair dentist?’ you can say, ‘Yeah, I had to get some of my hair filed down, too.’”