Its the time of the year when I scramble around to make sure everyone’s eyes, teeth and other weird body parts are where they should be. Dental appointments with four children are not on my top 10 list of things I want to spend my time doing, so this year, I opted to split the pain between two appointments – girls vs. boys. Who will win the great cavity war? (I know! I know!)

After staying out very late last night with Freedom, random bar chick, random bar guy, karaoke and a pool table, I’m pretty sure that some gremlins came into my room and slapped me around. My neck was in the shape of a, um, bad, non-neck shape and my eyes were this crazy purple shade that screams (no, really, it was just screaming). Clearly, I am was not well today, but I rallied the troops and we headed to the dentist where I hoped she’d be so happy to have teeth to fix that she’d ignore my clear state of feeling like crap.

We get there, the Twitches go back and I slouch down against the wall watching Sunshine get fawned over.

Sunshine has one cavity.

Sigh, ok. “How bad is it?” I asked.

“Its a CAVITY,” she responded, and looked at me like I had lost my mind.

“Sorry, I’m uh… tired… and these allergies…” I mumbled.

Then she explains that their teeth are close together and she wants me to floss them, laughing, “in all of your spare time.” Ha. Ha. Fucking. Ha! (I will cut you, lady.)

She moves to Dozer, and screams like she’s being chased through the woods in her torn underwear by a knife-wielding murderer (or squirrel).

Dozer has five cavities.

My whole body may have just collapsed in on itself as she stood there, mask halfway on her face, with a look of sadness. My dentist officially pities me. I mentally calculate the potential of a nervous breakdown and what drugs she may give me if I start weeping uncontrollably.

“Do you have anyone to help you at home?” she asked.

Like I somehow could prevent the cavity monster from eating my children’s teeth by having SOMEONE to help me out. Yes, that’s how this works. I don’t brush their teeth, I let them have soda and juice. We do shots of corn syrup and chase them with pixie stix. That’s what real parenting is all about. Oh, then, I lock them in a closet with fruit roll ups, gummies, and now & laters so I can go out and knit little voodoo dolls with the floss you so desperately ask me to use. I don’t need anybody’s help doing that, lady. Jeebus.

Really, I just laughed… mostly so I didn’t cry. I hate heart her.

The Twitches got their new toothbrushes and prizes from the treasure chest. I promised I was going to come back next week with the boys and I’m pretty sure I’m going to just show up in a robe, carrying a flask. Maybe, I’ll even have a can so I can sit outside the office and panhandle. HA! HA! HA!

Upon our departure, the receptionist pointed out that my identical twin daughters have identical twin cavities in all of their identical twin teeth. I guess they really are twins. Ha. Ha. Fucking. Ha.

NSFW/K – but totally worth watching, with or without cavities (courtesy of MJ):

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VR4O68kUj5c