In the last few years I've spent way too much time and money in my least favorite place in the world: the dentist's chair.

When we were little, I swear the only time my brothers ever picked up a toothbrush was the day of our dentist appointments. Yet, they never had cavities. I was religious about brushing my teeth, and had a cavity every visit.

The dentist's office my mom took us to had a big pirate's treasure chest full of toys. You would have thought they would have taken pity on me and let me pick out two toys. For crying out loud, I was the one keeping them in business. More often than not, the toys from the treasure chest didn't last through the day. Jeff and Craig usually chose wooden paddles with bouncy balls on strings stapled to them. Which meant I spent the ride home dodging and flinching from the balls whizzing around the car.

One of the worst spankings I ever got was courtesy of one of those paddles. I had witnessed one of my brothers get hit by a ball right where it hurts the most. The theatrics that followed were impressive, the drop to the knees, the moaning and howling. I thought it was ridiculously over the top, but worth remembering...maybe the next time I got in a fight with one of them, a well placed kick would ensure an easy, quick victory. I employed this tactic exactly once, hence the paddling. I remember my mom asking me if I knew how bad that hurt them? Yes, I knew. I wanted to answer, "Well, duh!!! Do you think they know much a punch in the stomach hurts me?" But I knew better.

Of course, it wasn't enough that my teeth were riddled with cavities. They had to grow in all snaggletoothed, too. Nowadays, when kids have too many teeth to line up nicely, they wear expanders. Back when I had to have braces, they just pulled four perfectly good teeth to make room. They were probably the only cavity-free teeth I had. I could really use those teeth now.

Years later, it turns out all that vociferous (but useless) brushing caused gum recession. Now, if I smile big, air is painful. And, as if they didn't have enough torturous little tools, now they have one that blasts concentrated puffs of air on the sensitive areas.

Things haven't changed, I still can't go to the dentist without receiving bad news. Only now it's more expensive. I'd like to think it's all a scam, but no, they have the evidence on film. Films that require placing razor edged pieces of cardboard in my mouth to bite down on.

Root canals are the latest money suckers. Since I'm not feeling any pain, I'm skeptical that they're really necessary. At which point a little fear mongering is in order: "The last thing you want to experience while you're flying is an abscessed tooth." After the root canal is done, a crown is needed.  I remember the sticker shock of that--does the "crown" have real diamonds and rubies in it or what? Maybe I would forgo it. That's when they bring the mirror out and show you what the root canal has left: a little, gray, pointed fang. No one would opt out of covering that baby up.

Okay. Enough whining. No one likes a whiner. I just needed to vent a little. I'll just try and be thankful that I'm not a toothless whiner--yet.

As long as I can remember, I've wanted to be just like my mom. I've been inspired by her selfless love, how she has risen above her own considerable grief to offer comfort and encouragement.

Her hard earned wisdom has guided me through many difficult days. When I'm experiencing especially down days, I tend to avoid people (except poor Bob, of course). Because really, who wants to be around a downer? But my mom is always able to get to the nitty-gritty of my sadness and literally set me back on track to right thinking. Thinking that takes the focus off of myself and on to all I have to be grateful for and the importance of living in the present. Life is short, carpe diem!

Sadly, not only am I not as selfless as she is, I don't laugh as easily either. But she thinks I'm funny and her laugh is contagious, so consequently, we've spent my entire life laughing together. I talk to her pretty much every day and every day we find something to laugh about.

When I was in high school she asked me to trim the back of her hair. She's always been one to save money by cutting her own hair. I took the scissors and began snipping. I cut it unevenly and after numerous attempts to get it even, it ended up much shorter than she wanted. Which made her mad. Which hurt my feelings.

I asked her what had made her think I knew how to cut hair in the first place? She said I certainly didn't hesitate to grab the scissors and tear into it like I knew what I was doing. In moments, the anger and hurt turned into uproarious laughter. I don't think I would have been laughing had she done that hatchet job on me...but that's the difference.

The other day, I was telling her about a girl I met who named all five of her children after U.S. presidents. There was Kennedy, Reagan, Madison, Jackson and...? I couldn't think of the last one. She offered up several suggestions, trying to jog my memory.

"No, no...I know it was a conservative president."

"Hmmm..." my mom hesitated a minute. "Was it Bush?"

Of course, we erupted in laughter at the cruel absurdity of naming a child "Bush".

I can't imagine a life that doesn't include my mom and her daily doses of wisdom and laughter.  She is my biggest fan and my dearest friend, and I love her with all my heart.