Like a sheep to the slaughter, we take Me Too to the dentist. She has a cavity. Again.
You may as well blame this on me, as I’m sure most people will anyway. It doesn’t matter. You probably can’t make me feel worse about it than I already do. (But please don’t try.)
She had her first cavity around 20 months, just a few weeks after getting a clean bill of oral health from the dentist at the city-sponsored 18 month check up. That one was in the front. The dentist applied some kind of solution that prevents the cavity from getting bigger. It also makes her tooth black. Luckily it’s on the side and not very obvious.
That’s what she is expecting so she isn’t nervous about this visit.
But this time the cavity is in the back and they have to drill. I’m a nervous wreck but trying to hide it.
Have promised to take the kids for ice cream afterwards. (Sweets like that have been a rare treat since cavity #1.) Maybe not the best idea considering but I feel so sorry for her!