It's true.

My sister commented on that last post that I have bad luck when it comes to dental things. In keeping with the "feel sorry for me" theme - let me give you my history. First, Beth used to call me "Aim" as a nickname, because I didn't really like toothpaste. (Aim was a toothpaste back then. Is it still?) I brushed my teeth, but verrrrry carefully, so as to never have little white bits of dried paste in the corners of my mouth. Ugh. That grosses me out to this day. And I hate it when people walk around and brush their teeth at the same time. Why? Because when I was a little girl, maybe 8 or 9, one of my sisters had walked and brushed at the same time right into the kitchen, and accidentally left a glop behind on the floor. And I stepped in it. It gooshed all around my heel, and though it was more than 20 years ago, I STILL remember that feeling. Ick. Thus, I freak out when Jimmy tries to leave the bathroom while getting ready for bed. (Sorry, Jimmy. It's a psychosis. I'm not saying it's healthy.)

As for the dentist. One of my first memories of the dentist is when I was probably 8 or 9 (I attribute most of my childhood memories to this age - I don't know why), and my dentist strapped some laughing gas onto my nose and had me start counting backward from 10. I remember thinking, "what? of course I can count backward from ten, you dolt. 10...9...8...zzzzz." And they pulled four of my eye teeth, which I kept in a tiny manila envelope until I realized that was disgusting.

Next, a boy (Jason Albert. I still remember his name.) tripped me accidentally on purpose and I fell on my face, split my lip, and broke my front tooth in half during half-time of a basketball game at my elementary school, where I was a cheerleader. (It was Oklahoma. They have elementary-aged cheerleaders there. Or they did, 20 years ago). The tooth had to have a root canal, and the dentist didn't anesthetize me properly, and I felt the whole gosh-darn thing. Still remember that, too. And his assistant let the suction thingy get attached to the inside of my cheek, where it dug into the skin and tore, leaving a wound. The tooth was capped. Then, when the cap fell off during history class my junior year, I had a crown. Old-school style, with a metal base. So my gum is darker than it should be. A little unsightly, but I got used to it.

What next....let me see...cavities filled on my mission; horrible, cheap dentists in Provo who prey on poor BYU students and can't fill cavities or do root canals for a lick of salt, but do it anyway to get the money, then laugh, and shout "SUCKER!" maniacally at the patient. (I've had one root canal already re-done, and one crown replaced that was done poorly).

At one time, after not going to the dentist for awhile (because it petrifies me and I didn't want to pay to be petrified) I had like 3 root canals in 2 weeks. So...my count for crowns is up to...let me see... 5 (I'm not counting the one had to be replaced - and don't forget I have to replace the one that fell out last week at the dentist, too). And the 6th is on its way. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??!!! I brush, I floss, I swish (OK, I don't swish every day. But I use Listerine!! I mean, the stuff is powerful!!). Is it a lack of calcium? Is it because I don't drink milk? Honestly! Tell me!

And did I mention that I have to get a root canal on this tooth the dentist was drilling down for the crown? Awesome. Tylenol every 4 hours to tolerate the pain? Super-awesome. Dentures at 35? Somebody shoot me.

But, on a lighter note, Z sure is cute. Watch this video! (OK, it's a little slow at the beginning. And she was hungry, so she starts saying "cracker" over and over about halfway through, but I sure do love her. I could watch her all day. Oh wait, I do!)