I can still remember as a child the horror that I felt when my mother mentioned those two words…fast forward 20+ years to this morning. The Dentist…horror struck me again, only this time, not because I am still terrified to go (I would like to trick myself into believing that I have conquered that fear), but because I was taking my 2 year old son for the first time. Those of you who have a 2 year old child, know very well that taking that child into public can quickly lead into a Top 10 most embarrassing moment. One that leads you to feeling like the most inept parent on the face of this earth. Well, that is what I was expecting as we headed up to Twins (our dentist). I did all of the usual bribbing, you know, stickers, SpongeBob toothpaste, even candy (felt a little bad about this one after a good teeth cleaning, but hey what the heck) if the visit went well. We were off, and off to a good start, getting in the car, check; driving to the dentist, check; the waiting room, check; going to the chair, not quite a check. My little one was refusing to get in the chair, thing quick, pray, and figure out how to keep this quiet defiance from turning into a loud war…but then it happened, the hygenist at the office took over. She got my spunky little man into the chair, got him to give a big ol’ alligator smile, sparkled up those tiny little teeth, and even made an agreement with little man to let the Dr. count his teeth. It worked, crisis averted (this time at least). What a great day. After it was over, I let little man smudge up his pearly whites with a little Hersheys, and we both went home happy to live another day in the land of feeling like I might be a doing a good job raising these little ones up (at least for today).