I love trouble

January 6, 2011 | modernhygienist.com

It was not a typical day. I was writing; nothing unusual there. Suddenly, my daughter made her Fisher Price princess toy yell at my husband’s William Shakespeare figurine. Why she deemed it necessary to hurl three-year-old insults at poor, ole' Bill I’ll never know; the spongey mind of a pre-kindergartner is truly a mystery. I approached Syd ever so cautiously and sat down next to her.

“Why is the princess scolding William Shakespeare, honey?” 

“He’s being a troublemaker, Mommy.”

“Oh.” I said cocking my head sheepishly in the hopes my kid wouldn’t wind up for an eye-twitching tantrum if I asked why.

“Troublemakers don’t play nice,” replied Syd as her index finger began the treacherous journey up her nose.

I recently read an article by a hygienist who talked about ‘troublemakers’ in dental offices who may have been at risk of getting fired for their trouble-making ways; strange that Syd would mention that word.

“I know, bug, but there’s no need to be rude back.  I mean, he’s William Shakespeare.”

Wait a minute. What did I tell her? Shakespeare is being a tool to my kid. He should use some common sense. Syd is only three and three-quarters old. Someone should teach this guy some bloody manners.  I’ve got to do something.

Wait... I’m a troublemaker.

I’m an instigator; an initiator; a boat-rocker, and an agitator.  I’ve questioned why full-mouth implants were performed on an eighty-year-old man who was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer.  I’ve inquired why a ‘family friend’ of a monetarily, struggling dentist had a $10,000 balance but was never asked to start paying on his bill.  I once gave the silent treatment to a dentist for the day because I learned he and his assistant shared a hotel room together on a ‘continuing education’ excursion.  

I haven’t minded my own business.  I stuck my nose so far up others’ affairs the longest 2x2 plank couldn’t get it out.  One would think I had learned my lesson by now: shut my mouth, stay silent, and keep my opinions to myself.  If I commit to that ideal hopefully I’ll still have a job.  Be agreeable.  Don’t question anything.  Acquiesce. 

That’s excellent advice.  I do, however, have a problem with that:  I won’t settle for mediocrity.  None of us should.

If something ‘smells funky’ ask why.  If your standards aren’t being met say something.  If the coffee is too weak make it stronger. 

After my daughter eventually released her finger out of her nostril, I attempted to explain my child-friendly definition of what a ‘troublemaker’ is.  She got bored and stuck the same finger in her ear.  Great.

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