My parents are infatuated with proper dental hygiene. No, on second thought – they are obsessed with the maintenance of their pearly whites. The only reason Costco continues to annually generate a profit is because my parents spend so much time in the dental products aisle. In fact, my dad swears so religiously by his Waterpik system that he even bought a portable one to take with him on his business trips.
My mother, on the other hand, is an avid flosser. If her dentist gave out gold medals for the top patient every six months, she’d be on the medal stand twice a year. And for those of you who have to ask why a dental visit is every six months and not annually, don’t worry – that alone has already put you out of the running for this award. Cavities, however, are no joke, and this hobby comes at the expense of the floss itself. Growing up, we kids would watch as she pulled miles of floss out of the pack at a time, most of which had shortened lifelines if they fell into her hands instead of another Kim’s.
Bye bye Glide: the end is near. Literally.
In a recent trip to visit my grandmother in Korea, my dad decided to be efficient and visit a dentist during his downtime. He so thoroughly enjoyed this experience that following confirmation of my own trip to Korea this spring, he sent me the serious email message below:
“If you have enough time, your aunt will schedule a dental check up appointment for you.”
My parents occasionally make sporadic visits to Las Vegas to visit, which usually mean at least one of several things.
- Having more dinner options than just turkey vs. PB & J sandwiches for dinner on account of my being too exhausted to cook a substantial meal.
- Free delivery of Costco products for everything I need in bulk so that I don’t need to buy toilet paper or Q-tips for another 3 years.
- Reminders to consume more vitamin C, apply eye cream, and wear my retainer because paying for orthodontics wasn’t just about flushing several grand down my throat.
A practically naked pantry and refrigerator whose only truly full shelf contains beer, wine, and soju means that as long as I’m at work, my parentals are relatively limited in their culinary selections in my home, which I share with my 6’4″ (or 6’5″? Not sure – once I have to crane my neck, it’s pretty much all the same) roommate Cam.
One morning when I had the luxury of sleeping in, I slipped downstairs to eat breakfast while my dad kept busy on a conference call. I suddenly tore myself away from the kitchen table and ran upstairs in a sheer panic as I realized I wasn’t even aware as to whether or not my dad had eaten as a result of my pitiful excuse of a kitchen.
Me: Dad! Did you eat yet? Sorry, I already started eating downstairs!
My dad: Yes, I ate a while ago before my call.
Me: Oh! Well what did you eat?
My dad: Your pink Mini Wheats cereal. I was actually going to eat the Oatmeal Squares cereal I saw in your pantry, but it was on the very top shelf, so I knew it was your roommate’s and not yours because you’d be too short to get it.
I COULD reach it. I just choose not to.
As a protector of domestic borders and coastlines, my sister Jamie in the Coast Guard likes to remind us lowly civilians often of how her lifestyle is different from ours. While the rest of us carry on with our lives by going the gym and the grocery store, Jamie keeps herself otherwise occupied in a way we can only pretend to understand.
Where my Mom thinks my sister works
My mom: Jamie, do you have a pool on your ship?
Me: She’s in the Coast Guard, Mom. Not on a cruise.
Where my sister really works
The rest of us in society cannot even begin to relate to her on even one of her “normal” days.
My sister: I got pepper sprayed for training today!
My mom: Pepper steak!? Was it good?