Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Dear Mr. Dentist

I know we found you via a trusted friend. And I know you allowed us to come immediately since my little T had fallen down those awful deck steps out back in the rain and made his front tooth look all funny. And I know your people have since cleaned and buffed five of our family of six's pearly whites for several years now. Yet, I have the following to say to you and your staff.

I will not be back.

Have you any idea what I did to make it to your office today by 11:37AM? I left my Bible study early. I grabbed lunch for all four of my kids (darn the McD's for forgetting a Happy Meal so I had to go back to get it, thus making me late...that's another blog letter for another day, Mr. Ronald McDonald. Be afraid. Be very afraid....) I dropped my youngest son at a friend's so she could take him to preschool. I dragged two kids out of class in the middle of the day. And I raced across town to arrive in your office at 11:37.

Your assistant, Mr. Dentist, informed me she could fix T's tooth - guess you didn't see that on the x-ray back when we asked if his fall would do any damage to his adult teeth -cuz it wouldn't 'take long' but she could not seal Pookie's teeth because it requires a full half hour. At 11:37. Where did she need to go? A funeral? A meeting? A class? Some sort of dental-assistant-must-be-there-can't-be-10 minutes-late sort of soiree? No? NO? No. Lunch. She had to get to lunch. Cuz I watched her take her coat, wait for the other two assistants, get in her car and drive off. For lunch.

Yeah. And while I'm at it, Mr. Dentist. Even Mercer Mayer in the book in your waiting room sees the dentist with his mom before check-out. You know I have never seen you or your smiling face any day that my children were seen in your office since that first fateful day of the fall? Isn't it sort of customary to at least make eye contact with the mother who helps pay for your little sweeties' private educations?

Hey, in a day and age when dentists are a dime a dozen and customer service is key, you can kiss this family of 6 good bye.

Bitter in St. Louis

P.S. I'm sorry I slammed the door when I left. That was pretty childish. I'll be better for my next dentist. I promise.
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