Missing It

I had a dentist appointment yesterday and once again realized how much I miss the spit sink. As a child who traipsed to the dentist for teeth cleaning or for tightening the braces, etc., I was always glad when the hygenist commanded me to spit. Spit! When else did a grown up ever tell a kid to spew out a wad of saliva? And sometimes with bits of tooth dust or blood. Heaven!

The spit sink was one of the last modes of sanctioned spitting out there--another being the baseball diamond. But this one was open to all who made a visit to a dentist. Now it's gone. Today, a hygenist suctions out the slime and continues to scrape away plaque. No quick break from those pointy, sharp tools. No spitting. Sigh.