The Dentist. Sigh.

The title pretty much sums this post up, but I'll elaborate.

I made an appointment for both of the boys to get their teeth cleaned. I thought I made it for Saturday morning (meaning tomorrow), but apparently I'd actually made it for today. So, after sleeping in, then taking a leisurely shower, I ran to get the phone at 10:05 a.m. It was the dentist's office. Were we on our way to the appointment? Uh. Crap.

The boys hadn't eaten breakfast yet, nor had I. They had had some strawberries they found in the fridge, but not real breakfast. Crap. I ran downstairs and made their breakfasts, then ran upstairs and got dressed. We ran out to the car and I sped to the dentist's office, only thirty minutes late! Go, Laura.

Hutton was first. The hygienist attempted to get x-rays of his teeth. Yeah, good luck with that. Hasn't happened yet, and didn't happen again today. Then, the cleaning. Two, yes, two teeth were polished. Then, Hutton started saying, "I want water." He didn't want the little tube, he wanted to drink from a cup. Then he wanted to use the bathroom. He kept grabbing the polishing wand, blah blah blah. Uh, let's try Harrison. He wouldn't get in the chair. The hygienist suggested he sit in my lap. Good idea! He's in my lap. But refuses to open his mouth. All the bribery of a new toothbrushes, balloons, and vending machine crap in the lobby didn't work. I left, dragging my children and their probably cavity-ridden teeth, behind me, and vowing next time their father would bring them.