ZoomBoy and the Dentist

Zoomboy had a dentist appointment today– I was all over it. Was gonna take him at 10:30, get him back to school by 11:45, get to aqua right on time and BOOM.

Day mastered, motherhood achieved.

One or two little glitches to this plan.

It started out well enough– I went to get him from school and chatted up the attendance lady.

She is the nicest person.

“Oh, yes. Zoomboy. He’s the sweetest lamb. He was tardy today.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“He’s tardy quite a bit–but not as much as last year, so that’s encouraging.”

(I may have mentioned before that Mate and I are THOSE parents.)  “He’s getting better.”

“Yes, but I remember him this morning. He’s rocking the bright green mitts. So cheery!”

“I’m making him a hat to match.”

“He’ll love that! But he signs his name slower than any child I’ve seen in my entire career.”

(Like me, she is not young. This is an unexpected landmark in Zoomboy’s history of being Zoomboy.)

“Well, you know, we’re both left handed.”

“Yes– and he’s got to do the thing with his hand. I understand. But he’s a sweetheart–and here he comes!”

So that went well–and I think we need to remember to give the attendance lady a gift on the last day of school. It would probably be very appreciated.

But anyway, that wasn’t the glitch.  The glitches came with the appointment itself. First, they were running a little late. But the dentist was taking extra time with a fractious little one who was having a very bad day, and since I am a grownup and Zoomboy is a big kid, we could definitely wait for that.

The second was… uh…

Well, I hadn’t counted on her using nitrous.

I mean, I should have. Because they were sealing and filling all his teeth. But I didn’t.

Zoomboy floated out of the back office and I talked with the dentist. While I was doing that he fetched my yarn bag. And stood at my side, staring at me soulfully. Without saying a word.

We got to the car and I talked about his procedure for checking back into school, and he said, “Can I just go home. Please.”

It was the first thing he’d said in fifteen minutes, and he mumbled. And it dawns on me.

“Are you feeling a little loopy?”

“My nostrils are cold.”

“Are you seeing in sound?”

“No.” Beat beat beat. “Am I drooling?”

“No.”

“It’s Friday the thirteenth. I”m glad you didn’t go after all the people in my dream with a blood dripping  machete.”

“Me too. That would have been unnerving.”

“Yes. Don’t do that.”

And then he leaned his head against the car window and stared out into the bright sunshine.

“Okay then. We still need to go get your stuff.”

“Okay.” … … …

Folks, the softly staring gaze was getting unnerving.

He had to hold my hand when we walked across the school quad so he didn’t wander away.

“Is he checking back in?” the attendance lady asked, looking puzzled.

“Uh, no. They had to use nitrous.”

Zoomboy stared happily into space and swayed.

“Oh. Do you think you can get to your locker, Zoomboy?” she asked as she wrote the pass.

“Zoomboy?”  I tapped his chin.

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

He wandered away and she was like, “Yeah, I don’t think…”

“No, he’s really not gonna…”

“Yeah. This isn’t the day to go back to school.”

I texted Mate. Even the attendance lady thinks he’s too stoned to go to school. 


I texted Chicken, and she was like, “Ha ha– I need to see that!”

I told ZoomBoy what she said.

“Tell her to take a picture.”

So I did.

And I’m not sure if the picture is worth the 1000 words… but I do think it backs them up a little. He’s playing video games now. And trying not to drool.

Nitrous–I need to file that away in my motherhood bag, so I know what to expect next time.