Here's spit in your eye.

Yesterday I had my first dentist appointment in two years (Gross, I know. I'm usually really good about regular appointments, but after having Will I sort of forgot about going to the dentist. I promise I'm back on track for regular six month check-ups). The good news is that my teeth and gums are 100% healthy (never had a cavity in my life--thanks mom and dad for the good teeth you handed down! But you really could have passed me some better genes in the vision department....I suppose a girl can't be too greedy.)

Anyway, I realized at the appointment how very intimate and sort of embarrassing it is to have your teeth cleaned. Maybe even more so than a gyno appointment (since giving birth, there's pretty much no shame in that department anymore). Think about it: at the dentist, you have a complete stranger poking around your mouth, scraping goo off your teeth, your spit and breath bouncing up into his or her face, etc. I could go on, but I think you get the picture. The mouth is a very private area.

And not only is it the privacy of the mouth that makes a dentist appointment cringe-worthy, it's also the unfortunate faces you make during the process. As I was getting x-rays taken, it dawned on me how ridiculous I looked. My dentist uses new digital technology for x-rays, which means instead of the usual films that get put in your mouth, there is a device you have to bite on which sticks out about six inches from your mouth. As I was biting down on this newfangled piece, I realized my eyes were popped wide open, eyebrows arched, nostrils flared. Combine that with the drool dripping out of my mouth and I'm sure I was a beauty to behold.

The only thought that comforted me was the fact that most dental hygienists have seen it all--surely my mouth was only one of thousands that she had encountered over the course of her career, and most definitely mine was not one of the "gross" ones. As I casually asked the hygienist how long she had been doing this, she replied, "since July". All of two months. Which means she probably hasn't gotten over the "ick" factor yet. Maybe I need to find a new dentist--one with really old, experienced hygienists.