The Tooth Scary

It’s a well known fact that teachers don’t take great care of themselves while school is in session. For some reason, we put the work before our own well being. You’ll rotate your seating chart before you rotate your tires. Though you can teach in your sleep, you forego such sleep so you can tweak your lesson plans. In this case, I’m going back to the dentist in a year. Bring on the deep cleaning!

Though I was expecting great pain, I didn’t realize it would come as early as the waiting room. There I was with nothing but back issues of Better Homes & Gardens, Richard Marx on the radio and a mother/daughter combo.

“So why did you get a C on your Tom Sawyer essay?”

“Because my teacher is bipolar, and she was having one of her down days when she graded it.”

“This concerns me,” I hear the mother in a placid tone, “poor woman.”

Are you kidding me?! How can a teen, who it seems hasn’t quite mastered analysis, diagnose her teacher with a specific mood disorder. And the mother—Ugh!

This may have been the only time that I wanted Richard Marx cranked up.