How much do I love my glitter nails? This much. (This is also how much I love the weird smile detect auto-photo feature on my camera.)
Yesterday I went to the dentist. My family dentist, by the way, is medical professional with whom I have the longest ongoing relationship that I have ever had with a single practice. Given that I have the (arguable) best teeth in my family, this is great, because it allows me to constantly feel like I am winning at medical care.
I’m a little petty, what can I say?
This appointment was especially exciting because a) everyone at the dentist’s office was into the glitter nails (I love them all!) and b) I earned the dental hygienist seal of approval. I did not get the flossing lecture.
As far as my porous-teethed relatives are concerned, this requires some level of magic. The dental hygienist always scolds us about flossing, right as our gums have started to bleed because she poked them with the horrible sharp metal stick tool. (I hate the sharp metal stick tool.) To avoid the flossing lecture is to win a gold medal at taking care of yourself.
To counteract that positive step in self-care, my next step after the dentist appointment was the liquor store to pick up ingredients for this cocktail. I’m all about the balance of work and reward, you know. (For those who are curious, I made one and it just tasted like a gin and soda, so.)
Next step is to start moving enough that my GP stops telling me about how my body fat will kill me. If I can conquer the flossing lecture, surely that’s possible.
I aggressively floss beforehand to get all the blood out of my body, so then it’s less messy when I’m at the dentist. The sharp metal stick tool still hurts, but they think I’m doing a great job, somehow.
Also “porous-teethed relatives” made me crack up.
That’s hilariously four humours-esque. Oh, the things we do to lie to medical professionals.