Dear Dr. Uzzel's Office,
Thank you for your patience this morning as you worked with me and my two appropriately child-like children. It is clear by the serene decor that your office does not cater primarily to kids, and I was a bit worried that my daughter's various games of Diaper Bag Dump were going to be a problem, but you were very gracious is allowing her to keep busy while I filled out the required paperwork.
Thank you for allowing us to turn on PBS kids, and you may pass on those thanks to all of your adult patients who endured a half hour of Super Why and Clifford. Clearly, you understand the mind-numbing power of television is a good first step in a child's mental preparation to do something scary.
Thank you, Miss Toni for accepting that Simon is afraid of the chair. I don't know why either. He just doesn't like to lean back - I think he senses that his defenses would be stripped beyond what he could bear. Thank you for assuming the uncomfortable position of examining his teeth by bending at the knees and craning your neck so you could peer into his teeth from across the room.
Thank you for acting as though it is perfectly normal for a mother and a baby to be seated in the chair with the patient.
Dr. Uzzel, thank you for your quick sensitivity to a child's fear, and for relating to him as though those fears were acceptable. Thank you for letting him feel like it was his idea to let you in his mouth.
Most importantly, thank you for not making me feel like a bad mom when I told him he didn't need to get his teeth cleaned today.
I also feel like I should come clean about something - when we said he brushes morning and night, we didn't really mean every morning and every night. I was relieved that your examination (allbeit from across the room) didn't turn up anything too frightful.
I tried to keep my rather curious daughter from poking around in every cabinet and ruining your very expensive dental equiment. If anything is missing or damaged, you have my credit card number. Just do me a favor, and first check to see if my insurance will cover it.
Dear really, really nice lady at Ritter's Frozen Custard,
I'm sorry I didn't catch your name. I'm sure you could tell I was a bit frazzled, which is why you served me ice cream a good half-hour before your store opened. You looked like you might be a mom, which is probably how you sensed that if a minivan pulls into an ice cream store at 10:30 in the morning, it must be important.
You may know from personal experience what it is like to tell your kids that yes, you promised them ice cream after the very scary dentist, but they would have to wait a half hour.
Thank you for making a very difficult day much, much easier.
And, I do believe Turtle Something is my new favorite flavor.
Dear Time Warner Cable,
Really? I know that it was my choice to give up the Food Network and Bravo for the economically responsible Basic Tier. I know that Basic is basic, but I really did appreciate the few extras you threw in.
Oxygen might not seem important, but it offers hope that a decent movie might be on, or a rerun of America's Next Top Model. And the Big Ten Sports network was sweet salve to the wound I inflicted on my husband when taking away ESPN.
Sure, we don't really watch those channels that much, but it is important to us just to know they are there. So, you can imagine my disappointment this morning when I flipped on my tv and found that those channels have "moved".
To where have they moved?
I might just move to a digital converter box myself.
To Simon's Pre-School,
I am writing to apologize for not having all of the medical forms appropriately filled out. I am trying, really I am, but I am new to this. It is my fault, but could you please let him start school tomorrow even though I can't find the prescription sticker that goes with his epi-pen?
I realize that as a school there are strict regulations, and my assurances that, "No really, he's never had a reaction before," and "I'm sorry, I've never had to use this thing, can you fill this part out" are not enough to cover your liabilities.
How about this? I'll promise to get the forms as quickly as I can, you promise that - at least for tomorrow - you won't feed him peanuts. Okay? We're good then?
That mom again