they only say something when they're not happy

This morning was my semi-annual teeth scraping, and all weekend I was psyched.

You see, for years and years I'd go in for my semi-annual cleaning and get a lecture from the hygienist for my inability to floss....or inability to remember to floss...or flat out unwillingness. Take your pick. No matter how you slice it, I wouldn't floss and I'd get the lecture.

This time was different though. You see, I've actually been doing it. Thanks to the little Reach flossing thingie, I've actually been flossing, pretty much every night. That little sucker makes the chore a lot less of a chore, and it's made a huge difference. I can probably count the nights I missed on one hand, and I was damn proud of myself. Still am.

So I waltzed my big butt in there this morning, and sat down and waited for the glowing assessment. I waited....and I waited some more. Then, I waited. Nuthin'. No, "Wow John, the message finally sunk in. Great job!" The only difference was no lecture about not flossing, and don't get me wrong...I am grateful for that. I just expected some kind of celebratory party...some kind of big deal to be made of the fact that I took care of my teeth for once, and made the whole cleaning process a tad easier. Confetti and a parade down the hallway, maybe. Someone dressed in a tooth suit leading the marching band. Not a word though.

I was so tempted to bring it up myself...like "C'mon, you had to notice." but I left it alone. Maybe I'll just have to believe that silence is golden, and accept that as a compliment.