It’s a Girl

Seven years ago, when we moved to Oregon and started seeing a succession of dentists (two in Eugene, two in Portland), we soon realized that every initial dental visit was going to be the same: a look inside our mouths, followed by the dentist proclaiming, “Oho! You must not have grown up in Oregon!”

Many American municipalities fluoridate their water. Caleb and I grew up (on opposite coasts) drinking the stuff, which means that our teeth give off that telltale sparkle, at least to discerning dentists. But fluoridated tap water doesn’t exist here in Portland. And we can’t decide if this is a good thing or not.

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When I was 14, my parents remodeled part of their house. My father hung his various scholastic degrees on the walls of his new office. My mother took her own collection of degrees and hung them on the walls of the new laundry room. When asked why, she’d say, offhandedly, “I thought they should go there, since that’s where I spend most of my time.”

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