Me and my Hygienist

I am old, I wear green

Keep my teeth nice and clean

See my friend, see the sights, feel alright.

Oh paraphrase, how I've missed you.

So I tweaked the Supergrass classic because, well, I feel alright.

Friday saw me excitedly dressing for my trip to the hygienist.  Well, perhaps "excitedly" is pushing it a bit.  I dressed sensitively for the occasion.  Dressing is a influencer and it's vital that I pitch this one right, for I want mine to like me.

I usually go for something casual, for I don't want her to think I'm trying too hard but I do want to please her, make the experience good for us both.

Me "Quick photo shoot, please."

TP "But you're going to the hygienist!".

Me "Exactly."

So for this visit I chose green.  Green is calming, opined The Photographer.  To calm us both, I added, for I am not the easiest of patients!

Pretty silk scarf which is of many colours and green is one of them, apple green Monsoon jumper (v. old).   And navy cotton, err, not jeans ... slacks maybe?  Oh goodness, I've taken to wearing slacks, how old-lady is that?!  The, err, slacks are another £8 January sales bargain from M&S.

So there was much deliberation over what to wear for the hygienist, and it was ever thus (SEE HERE).  The important thing here is that she liked the green, she liked the scarf.  I confessed that I dress to please her so she'll like me - and  she says that she does!

 Dressing for the hygienist aside, and it really is an aside,  oral care is so important.  It affects our health in ways that are a mystery to me.  And here's the thing - my hygienist teaches me how to brush my teeth.  Teaches me, her 68 year old pupil. 

 Children these days are taught religiously how to keep their teeth nice and clean and their work is monitored daily.  When I was growing up you were given a toothbrush (if you were lucky!) and left to your own devices.  The result is that my hygienist is having to teach this old dog many new tricks.

Each time I see her she shows me a technique, or points me to an area that needs specific attention. And then I go home and work on it and three months later, it's nicely embedded in my cleaning routine.  She is now complementing me on my work.

So, result! I had a pleasant hygienisting experience and I think it was good for her too.  Seems I am keeping my teeth nice and clean.  

And I feel alright.

But she and I aren't just about the teeth.

Conversation:

She "Have you seen The Film ?"

Me "Yes"

She "Did you spot that red brick farmhouse?'

Me "Yes"  

She "We don't have red brick farmhouses!"

Me "Yes".

She "And what about the accents?  Not one Guernsey accent!"

Me "Oh yes, I've blogged about it".  

(By this time she'd removed water sucker and sonic booming instrument so I was able to respond with more than a "yyuerrzth").

And she's not even a Guern and yet she too was irked by that brick and all the other opportunities the film bods missed (See HERE).  It was a seminal moment, a bond was formed by that red brick faux pas.  She's my friend.

Anyway my new bestie liked my choice of green, she liked my oral hygiene work, and the brick farmhouse just about sealed it.  

Me and my hygienist,

we're alright.

A la perchoine.