The Things They Do

It's funny to watch the boys. Usually from a fairly safe distance. With coffee in hand.

John has been Very Six lately, riding his brothers like a little rule-master, leaving very little room for grace. James did this at six. Friends' children have done this at six. Doesn't make it any more pleasant, but at least we know it's not us. But yesterday, as we head into the dentist's office, John says to James, "OK, while you're still here, I have to ask. Do you want us to go in with you this time? You know, because I worried about you back there last time."

Well, where did that come from? And what will it take for it to stay?

James, after absolutely nothing happened at his last visit, was feeling pretty big, so he said he'd like us to wait in the lobby for him. OK. *sniff sniff* (Motherhood seems to be a series of events that leave me completely torn, no matter what happens. Part of me wanted to be back there, to hold my baby's hand. Part of me was rather glad I could sit in the lobby with the other three, where we each had someplace to sit. You know, not on top of one another. Y'all know what I'm saying, I know you do.)

John positioned himself where he could see down the hall to the exam rooms - presumably so he could run to James' aid if the bat signal flashed. Em, Smidge, and I curled up on a couch and... I don't know what we did. There was no actual sitting still, and I can't remember finishing the dolphin book, or the duck book, or the kitten book. There was a lot of talking, and a lot of general activity, but this part's a little fuzzy. It's like drinking, without the hangover.

We were there about ten minutes, when Miss Tammy, the World's Greatest Hygienist, came back and said our presence was requested. Again with the two minds: "Oh, my baby needs me, let's go," and "You mean I have to gather all this stuff that's seeped out of the bag and MOVE?"

It turns out, all was well with the big, independent child, until the numbing process kicked in. Then he felt that perhaps a little Mama Presence might be handy. But the thing that had me chuckling all the way down the hall was John.

He snapped his book shut, hopped to his feet and muttered, "Well, it's about time."

Everything went well. As usual. The offending tooth was removed (it was already loose, so it didn't take much work), and as the boys received their goody bags, James asked, "But, when are you going to take out the tooth?" Miss Tammy laughed and told him it's already out, and the look on his face when he stuck his tongue through the hole was hilarious.

Hopefully, we won't have to go anywhere today. We'll just stay home and recuperate.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy