We're Done!

The last of the children had the last of the dental visits. There is no more work to be done on anybody under 18 in this house. I have absolutely no hope that it will remain that way, but at least I won't have to know about it until October, when they all go in for their routine checkups. So. That's something.

Em stayed in the lobby most of the time, enduring the nonstop administrations and nurturing affections of every girl from 6-9 years old who entered the building.

Oh, I'm sure she didn't mind. It would make me testy to a degree that makes Klingons look warm and fuzzy if I were to have somebody in my face like that for more than, say, the amount of time it takes to whisper through gritted teeth, "Get. Back. Now." Em, however, seems to have not yet developed a Personal Space. She was in heaven. I don't get it.

It was good, but nothing lasts forever. I knew we were nearing the end of our "happy waiting time" when I heard a Comanche war-cry and looked up to see her come barreling down the hall to the treatment arena, waving a stolen disposable nitrous oxide nose piece in one hand and a book in the other. There's a special place in my heart for good pediatric office staff. Truly. They perched her happily on the table beside James and fawned all over her while she pointed at James' head and said, "Ewwww!" and "Uh-oh!" (So comforting for him, I'm sure.)

The front desk ladies are nice, too, but Jess and I were laughing today over the almost Monty Python-esque approach of bookkeeping staff. There were things I did not buy this pay period, simply because I knew we were going to have two whomperdine dental visits today to pay for. So, I came semi-prepared to pay for them. The lady who handles checkout and bookkeeping mentioned there is a balance forward of nearly $400 (what insurance didn't pay, I think. We're not just slacking on our bills.) "Adding that to today's visit *tappity, tappity, tap*, and that'll be $600 and some change. Will that be debit or check?"

*snort* That would be a felony, wouldn't it, if I were to write a check that's that bad? Truly, we've been in several times a month, every month, for the last... what, six months? What would make you think I have ANY money left, let alone a spare six hundred to just pop right on out, here.

Without skipping a beat, she said, "Or, would you just like to pay half today?" Again, I think we're speaking past one another. If you couch it in terms of what I'd "like" to pay today, you may not get much. But in terms of what I'm "prepared" to pay today, I'm prepared to pay today's visit. Today. We'll have to budget for the rest.

*blank stare*
*blink*
Uh-huh. Well, if you're sure...

(As opposed to waiting for you to print out the receipt, whereupon the camera crew reveals itself and I yell, "Surprise!" Yes, I'm sure. Unless you're trying to hint to me that some surprise malfunction is going to befall me for this? You don't have armed hygienists in the parking lot, do you? Because if you do, I can leave the two small ones with you until payday... Of COURSE I'm sure.)

And then, in the blink of an eye, she's the Chipper Desk Lady again. It's pretty wild. I don't know yet what I'm going to do to throw her off next time. Perhaps I'll slip in one day when none of the children have an appointment and pay the balance. :-)

Now, at least, the children are all caught up. And it's all done properly. And that is a mighty fine feeling.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy