I have heard people say, “man, it was such a blur!” when describing a time in their lives. Whether it be moving from one place to another, switching jobs, drinking too much in college, I’ve heard this described to me many times by different people. I can’t recall a time in my life that I can accurately describe as being a blur. Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.
Lately, life has really been a blur. It seems like there’s always something else to do, another errand to run, another chore to finish, another phone call to make, another appointment to schedule, another ass to wipe- and mind you, none of those things are mine. Not even the ass. Well, I wipe my ass, but you know what I mean.
Today, I had the distinct privilege of spending the morning at the dentist with Leland, after shuttling Carl to school. He’s been complaining about a tooth that sustained an impact last year- I can remember the day like it was just yesterday. Leland tearing through the living room like the Tasmanian Devil, and suddenly, he trips, falls, and mouth to corner of table collision takes place. I can still hear the wailing, and I remember holding a wet washcloth to his mouth to stop the bleeding. Eventually, the tooth turned grey, then black, and he affectionately nicknamed it, “mah black toof.” We lived with the black toof for close to a year, but recently it’s become sensitive to temperature, and on Sunday, it started to hurt while he was eating a sandwich. The dentist had previously told us that it wasn’t a big deal unless it began hurting, and that the tooth was valuable for its role as a space-saver for the adult tooth that would inevitably take its place. Promptly after settling in at the dentist, filling out all the necessary paperwork, and getting called, Leland proceeded to completely lose his shit.
Imagine a wild, rabid animal, corralled into the corner of a cage. Then imagine poking it repeatedly with a pointy stick. Then you can imagine the level of cray cray we were dealing with at the time.
As I sat there helplessly, while the clueless dental assistant attempted to cover both of our wiggly, writhing bodies with the same x-ray apron, as I attempted to keep all of his limbs under the apron and away from the dental assistant’s face, I knew then what it felt like to wrestle an alligator.
When the x-ray was finally done, they graciously placed us into a large room with three dental examination chairs placed in the center of the room, where two children were sitting quietly and calmly, having their teeth cleaned. I glanced down at the creature of the blue lagoon, who was dry heaving and had a spit string dangling from his lower lip. I knew then that shit was about to get real, before it even started.
The clueless assistant attempted to coerce him onto the third exam chair, bribing him with stickers. I think I could have probably covered him from the tip of his head to the ends of his pinky toes with every sticker in that place, and he still wouldn’t have gone willingly. Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that we were going to have to do this by force, and I heaved him onto the chair like a sack of potatoes, and he proceeded to scream like I’d just lit him on fire. At that point, the dentist decided to grace us with his presence, and Leland chose that very moment to make a great first impression by screaming, “GO AWAY!”
Once the assistant realized she’d have better luck extracting a tooth from a wild hog, she produced a device called a “Papoose Board.” I don’t really know what a papoose is, but I think it should be more aptly named, “something you’d find in Buffalo Bill’s dungeon in Silence Of The Lambs.” She strapped him into it, and he was totally restrained, from the shoulders to the ankles, looking just like a burrito, only if your burrito screamed relentlessly and wore blue Crocs.
The doctor proceeded to promptly inject the gums with novocaine, and quickly prying his mouth open with this metal contraption before extracting the tooth in less time than it took me to consider doing a shot of tequila right there in his office. The dentist was up and gone before I could even ask if it was already over. Vanished like a fart in the wind.
What also vanished was any trace of the demon spawn that had possessed Leland for the past half hour. As soon as he was out of his restraints, he was supplied with a lollipop and two Doc McStuffins stickers, and promptly began singing, “I feel betta, so much betta, thank ya Doc, fa takin’ all mah ouchies awaaaaaay!”
I was dumbfounded. I had some papers in my hand that I had somehow signed at some point, but had no recollection of signing, a happy child, content with stickers and a lollipop, and the assistant was smiling cheerfully and saying, “that’s a wrap!”
I had no clue how we’d gotten to that point. My brain was still playing catch-up.
THAT, ladies and gentlemen… Is being caught in a blur.