When the coronavirus descended on us in March I had two dentist
appointments pending which were summarily canceled as all dentists shut down
except for emergency work. They’re starting to open back up and yesterday I had
the first of the appointments, a crown for one of my back teeth. I experienced what
I did with last week’s doctor’s appointment – a true grilling on whether I’d
been exposed to the virus, including a three page consent form. I then had to
don plastic coverings for my head, hands and shoes while they took my
temperature. When I was ushered back into the dentist chair I felt I was walking
through an air lock as the dentist and his assistant looked like astronauts
with all their protective gear. I felt a little embarrassed when I had to
remove my face mask because I suddenly felt wildly underdressed. This is our
new reality. Some things never change though – going to the dentist still
sucks.
Another aspect of virus induced changes was my spousal delivered haircut.
Granted I don’t have the most challenging hairstyle in the world but my
Favorite Panamanian has taken justifiable pride in becoming quite a barber over
the past few months. I made the tactical error of getting her angry at me
earlier this week just before we were scheduled to sit down for a haircut. I
“joked” that it probably wasn’t smart of me (a true understatement) to have a
haircut from a belligerent barber. I got a hunted feeling when she thoughtfully
considered what she could do with the anger. Fortunately she didn’t take
advantage of my self-imposed predicament and leave me with a Mohawk or
something even worse.
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| What could have Been |
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| But Thankfully Not |
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| FBR Took This Picture Last Night During Our Facetime Call |
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| Meanwhile BR3 is ready for Action |
We had some serious déjà vu experiences during last night’s Facetime call
with the FBR. We caught her in the middle of a standoff with her parents about
eating her dinner. My daughter, as part of the discussion, brought up the fact
that she clearly remembered sitting across the table from me more than three
decades ago as I waited out her intransigence about eating her overly cheesed
pasta (something she’d done to herself). The FBR emerged from her pout long
enough to be fascinated to hear that I could be a tough disciplinarian (something
she has no experience with me on). This is a generational issue as I too have
those memories dating back to my childhood when I was the last one sitting at
the dinner table long after everyone else had departed trying to coax the
family dog into eating very cold, by that time, Brussel sprouts. The déjà vu was
enhanced by the FBR’s garb. She was wearing one of her mother’s t-shirts as a
sleep shirt. Again this was something her mother did repeatedly as a kid. We
have many pictures of her cavorting in one of her mother’s t-shirts. Generations
indeed.
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| FBR In her Mom's Shirt |
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| Hamming it Up |
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| Star Trek Progress |
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RECURRING
CHARACTERS
BR3
– granddaughter #3, BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second
granddaughter; FBR - First Blog Reader
- first granddaughter, ABFA – Amazing
Best Family Athlete = my daughter in law; Wingman – my son in law; Keene
Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene,
NH; Soxfather - my brother in law; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Cantankerous Friend – friend since
grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to
attract women; Pittsburgh College
Roommate – high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; Deckzilla – our backyard deck which
grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two
close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3rd musquetera
(musketeer); Riggins - also known as
the Grandpuppy, son's dog; PanaGals
– female relatives/friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife
accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia
member, Favorite Panamanian - the
wife (of course); First Friday –
celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her
single days in Brooklyn
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