The Moral to This Story? Pick One.

When I was around 34, I was finally able to achieve a lifelong dream (I'm not sure if that is really the correct way to word it) and I finally got braces. I had always had crooked teeth, especially on the bottom, and I was always really self-conscious about it. I had Invisalign braces, but my bottom teeth were so stubborn, with one tooth actually rotated 90 degrees in my mouth, that we finally had to resort to the old metal braces for the bottom teeth. When you envision nice straight teeth, you don't really imagine there might be pain involved, so I was surprised by how much it actually hurt. I now have a lot of compassion for all those teenagers running around with metal in their mouths.

Anyway, this was when Ally was in kindergarten and I always had a neighbor or my mom watch her while I would go in to get my braces tightened.

One day, around this time of year, Ally didn't feel well so I didn't want to leave her with the neighbor in case she was really sick. Since it only took about 10 minutes to tighten my braces I figured we could get in and out and it would be fine.

I had her bring her favorite new doll, a little African-American Kelly doll that Barbrina Beck and I had scoured every toy store in Connecticut and Long Island trying to find. Ally had seen it somewhere in an ad and had her heart set on this particular doll. Since they don't sell many dark skinned Barbies or Kelly dolls in Utah, I was hoping to find it back east. It took a lot of looking, but we finally found the exact doll she wanted.

On the way to the ortho, Ally said again that she didn't feel well. I gave her a little pep talk. I told her not to tell the orthodontist that she felt sick. I think I actually said, "When he comes in to see me, try not to look unhappy. Just smile at him and say hi."

What kind of a mother was I? The answer is, one that was desperate for straight teeth.

So anyway, we had to wait longer than usual and the second he walked into the room to see me Ally yelled, "I think I'm going to throw up!"

I rushed her to the nearest bathroom and sure enough, she was right. Unfortunately, she didn't make it to the toilet, but at least she only threw up on the hard floor, not the carpet, and all down the front of her coat and, sadly, all over her new little Kelly doll. It was a mess.

I told them I would clean it all up, which they gladly let me do. Not fun. I hurried as quickly as I could, while doing a VERY thorough job. I hate cleaning up other peoples' throw up, but I did not want to leave any residual germs. I also, obviously, had to miss my appointment. I was mortified. I kept apologizing profusely, telling them that I hoped nobody would get sick from her.

Two weeks later, when I went back, I asked if anyone had gotten sick from my daughter. Luckily, they said no one had. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. When I got home that night I told my family that I was so happy I had cleaned up everything so well that nobody had gotten sick. Come to think of it, nobody else in our family had gotten it either. When I talked to Ally about this, she had only one thing to say:


"Well, that's what I get for eating all of Morgan's Halloween candy."


(We looked and sure enough, it was true. Morgan usually saves all her candy for weeks and it was totally gone. She was not happy and neither was I.)

I learned a lesson that day too. If your kid says they feel sick, believe them!

(The Kelly doll actually washed up pretty well in the washing machine. I threw it in with her coat and all the other clothes she had been wearing that day. I was VERY worried about that because I knew there was no way I would be able to get her another one.)