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“Can you come through to the back please?” the dental hygienist called across the waiting room to me, very politely but very firmly. “We need to discuss your children’s brushing habits.”
She spoke quietly. Although not quietly enough. Several pairs of eyes peered over the top of newspapers with sudden interest. And the scowling man/woman (I had been trying to discretely discern his/her gender for the past ten minutes while my kids were getting their teeth cleaned) cast a rather judgemental glance in my direction.
Don’t ask me why but I felt like a small kid being sent to the principal’s office in front of the whole class for doing something naughty as I hurriedly picked up my belongings and trooped after the dental hygienist to the room where Amy and Carly were waiting.
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