Today was a busy day, what with dentist appointments for the elder child and I, the younger child developing a stomach bug and getting sick in the two equally lovely ways you can get sick with that condition, and the husband going to see his doctor.
The younger child being sick caused somewhat of a logistical snag until Dad volunteered to take him with. Well, he didn't really volunteer; I pointed out how, since I was going to be in a dentist's chair with air and water hoses and electric toothbrushes jammed in my mouth, I would not be able to stop any "antics" like yelling in the waiting room or running up and down the halls. Dad was going in for a consult basically and could put the muscle on if needed, though that was doubtful since he'd have eyes to watch every move the younger son made. A reasonable solution, which might have worked better if younger son hadn't gotten sick on the ride over. Luckily it wasn't too messy and father was seen without further incident. I had a pukey towel waiting in the washer for me as a souvenir of this little trip.
Meanwhile, elder son and I went to have our teeth cleaned and our gums poked mercilessly. They kindly removed a loose tooth my son had simply by plucking it out. My son was all grins after that. They even gave him a tiny plastic box to put it in, which was so cute I was jealous of it for a little bit.
I am not a person who is afraid of the dentist. I have been to good dentists and bad, and had everything from fillings to braces to root canals done, even some (shallow) fillings without anesthesia. Nothing has fazed me. Even the throbbing pain after a scraping with the metal instruments doesn't bother me. The reason I'm not bothered by this mild discomfort and occasional ache is because afterward, my tooth surfaces feel like glass under my tongue. I absolutely love that. That tells me my teeth are squeaky clean, polished, and ready to blind.
I'm not completely crazy; I'd rather avoid another root canal than have to lie there for two hours with my jaw cranked open, watching the dentist use a blow torch to heat a wire cherry red then stick it in my mouth (!!! no one told me to expect that, it was seriously interesting). I think he was fusing something or other, I wasn't really listening to his quiet explanation so much as watching where that red hot wire was going, or trying to. But I do admit I like my bi-annual cleanings and look forward to them, and I love the ever-changing technology that makes it easier and quicker than ever. Sonic toothbrushes? Heck yes, please. Gimme the new advances, I'll even try them out first.
Which all makes me wonder why, if we have such rapidly evolving technology, that cars seem to be made crappier and crappier. After the dentist I had to go pick up quarts of motor oil for my car, which was sounding like it had a dry throat, again, less than a month after I put oil in it. There is no spot in my driveway, the car is not burning oil, yet it's sucking the stuff down like free drinks in a Vegas casino.
I complained about this on Facebook, to which I got a slew of replies along the lines of, "Your car is broken, take it to be fixed." Which I did know, but was avoiding because I still don't have a job, and getting my 30-year old cracked and dissolving fillings replaced (before they poison me with something in them that seemed like awesome new technology thirty years ago but is now considered highly toxic) has become the new priority.
I can remember several cars my family had over the years that never gave me the trouble this one has for the past four years. We owned a VW hatchback wagon, bright orange, and had it seemingly forever. The body rusted out long before the engine went; my sister and I used to get yelled at for poking in the rust patches in fascination. My father owned a Honda that was passed to my sister, and it literally had to be driven til it died, at the ripe age of fifteen. The body of the Honda rusted out long before the engine quit as well.
My family takes care of its cars with regular maintenance, and most of them, barring a few that were totalled in minor crashes (protecting their occupants superbly), lasted over ten years. It's been a struggle to keep this car on the road and running, even with regular maintenance. Its age? Nine years this March.
I love it because I know how it handles, and it has my aftermarket radio that I love in it, and because it was my first-ever car I bought new. But when it acts up it breaks my heart. I want this car to last me another six years, but at the rate it's going I'll be lucky to get two. It's a Saturn wagon, with those bouncy door panels that were so innovative and kind of neat, back in 2002. Awesome new technology! The factory where they made my car with pride is long closed and forgotten. A few years after that, Saturn itself was gone. My car, an instant if not-so-long-lasting classic. I need to put in a couple more quarts of oil tomorrow. At least the fiberglass door panels will never rust out.
They definitely don't make 'em like they used to.
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