Is it safe?

Going to the dentist is my least favourite activity in the world. Ranked right down there below unblocking a drain and changing a nappy. But being a parent means, amongst other things, Putting On A Brave Face and Setting A Good Example. So I dutifully went for my six-month check up last week, only to be told that I need to have an inlay. Isn’t that something you do to furniture?

The dentist was kind enough to show me a close-up of said tooth in glorious technicolor on the TV monitor. It has a crack running through it the size of the Grand Canyon. Hasn’t he ever heard the phrase too much information?  And fixing it won’t be cheap…

I’m not at my best when I’m in the chair. (Is anyone?) I have to admit I’ve done more than more than my fair share of whimpering there – which is probably pretty trying for the dentist. You might ask why I’m such a scaredy cat when it comes to dentists. Well, I had a couple of bad experiences when I was a child and I’ve also watched a lot of films…

As I said, though, it’s all about setting a good example. So paying to be terrified in the name of being a good parent, and keeping a tooth of course, is probably the right thing to do. And, who knows, maybe I’ll fetch a fortune on the Antiques Roadshow.

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Wardrobes and sprouts

My cat hid in the wardrobe this morning.  “I don’t blame you,” I told her.  “I often feel like that.” 

Actually, she’s been stalking me constantly since we picked her up from the cattery last week.  She makes me feel like a marked woman.  I never quite know when she’s going to accost me and continue her running commentary about how heartless we are, leaving her behind while we went up north to see relations.  Or maybe she’s griping about the fact that wet food is only the menu once a day – it’s dried kibbles the rest of the time.  (They’re good for you, Milly. Honestly!)  I suppose it’s like being serves sprouts at every meal…  But let’s not go there.

Meanwhile spring creeps on apace here – NOT.  I had some bulbs that started to come out in the mistaken belief that the seasons were on the change.  I don’t know where they got that silly idea from.  It’s b*&$%”* corpsing here, as my husband would say.  Still, hope springs eternal.  And it’s only 19 days till the next bank holiday…

If they don’t pay rent…

Gave the cat her monthly flea treatment this week.  So that makes me the bad cop for the next couple of days.  Afterwards she skulks behind the furniture, then makes a point of sitting in front of me in the living room, back turned.  If only she knew it was for her own good.  I suppose fleas have their part to play in the natural order of things (although I’ve no idea what), but there’s no room for free-loaders in this household.

Still, it looks as if we’re friends again now and she’s even brought me an Ikea mouse as a present.  It’s amazing what a packet of wet cat food can do to restore good relations.  So all is hunky dory for another few weeks.  Little does she know, it’s flea and worm treatment next month.  Like I said, there’s no room for free-loaders here…