My little brother and I have heated exchanges nearly daily. When tensions rise my father’s go-to approach to placate each party is to create a whacky scene to distract us from the item of conflict. Recently, my brother was trying to push me off the couch. Just before my patience totally faded my father jumped in and picked up a toy power drill and jokingly stated he could now do his own dental work and placed the drill near his mouth while pulling the trigger to initiate the spinning of the plastic drill bit of the drill. For a five and two year-old this scene was comedic genius and laughter filled the room. As an impressionable young man, I thought I could replicate this routine with a twist, focusing on more of a shock factor and creating equally hilarious responses. Using the toy drill, I identified myself as a dentist. As I practiced my routine, I thought that it was imperative that I use the element of surprise and have the dexterity to react quickly based on the reaction of my “patients”.
In the following weeks, when my parents’ friends or family members came to visit, I demanded that they be patients so I could play dentist. Surprisingly, no one outright objected to my demands; however, several people showed a true reluctance to initially comply. I instructed each patient to lie on the couch and close their eyes as I gathered my dentist tools. Many of the patients questioned the necessity of closing their eyes, which was a question I had prepared for well in advance. “I want this to be a comfortable place for you to be relaxed so the procedure will go smoothly,” I said. In reality this was just a ploy for me to keep the element of surprise alive. After confirming their eyes were closed, I would return with my toy drill. I slowly approached the person waiting on the couch, until I was about a foot from their face, then I revved the drill and giggled uncontrollably. Each person reacted differently but the sound of a real drill and a play drill appear to be indistinguishable and the general reaction was panic. You could tell the people who have had a poor experience with the dentist in the past as they jumped up in sheer panic when the sound of the drill powered-up.
My favorite reaction was from my mother’s college friend, Liz. When I demanded Liz be a patient of mine, she showed no signs of apprehension that ultimately lead me to be surprised at how she reacted. As with my other patients, I instructed her to lie on the couch and close her eyes as I gathered my dentist tools. I followed the same routine, holding the toy drill and slowly approaching her with her eyes closed, then when I was about a foot from her face, I revved up the drill and giggled uncontrollably. Liz jumped into the air, off the couch, which was the most extreme reaction I had seen yet. All my previous patients, who had similar initial reactions, took a second after jumping in the air to quickly come to realization that this was not real and then breathed a sigh of relief. However, Liz remained in a hysterical state and was not able to determine this was not real. I revved up my toy drill again and leaned in toward her. She became even more frightened, I was confounded thinking, “Can she not clearly tell this bright orange and blue drill made of plastic is a toy drill?” It was evident that she was struggling but I continued to think this was hilarious so I continued my pursuit. My mother rushed into the room just as Liz backed into a corner asserting that her life was in danger. My mom shot me laser eyes, meaning, “stand down,” as her voice was outmatched by Liz’s panicked shrieks. After my mom calmed Liz down, I asked, “Too far?” I immediately regretted bringing up the topic so soon as I received another laser eye glance from my mom.
I formally apology after the calm returned. Liz accepted my apology and went on to say that my creative thinking, coupled with my relentless pursuit would suit me well for a job as a person that scares people in haunted houses. Again, as an impressionable young man, I immediately took this idea as plausible and my imagination ran wild. My mom then turned her laser eyes to Liz to stop talking (those laser eyes are powerful). I had already begun rattling off all the brilliant scare ideas that had initially formed in my head once I heard Liz’s comment. My mom squashed the whole idea of me holding a job scaring people in any capacity immediately. I thought “Can she not clearly see I am undeniably talented at scaring people and she should support me in whatever role I pursue?” This serves as another prime example of my parents holding me back and squashing an emerging dream job.
The next turn of events was entirely unexpected. My mother stated I could no longer conduct my dentist routine. I recall thinking, “whoa, pump the breaks for a minute, I know you are emotionally charged right now but let’s not act irrationally.” I know reacting in a combative way wasn’t going to be productive so I responded in a very even keel and well-articulated approach, which was immediately shut down. My mom knew my game too well, so I pivoted the conversation to steer it in a way where I was the true victim. “I think we can both agree we have all gone through a lot today, and I am going to consider different ways in which my dentist routine can be less taxing on all parties.” I then gave some innocent eye nods to Liz in an effort to generate a supportive voice to champion my continued dentist routine. She just stared blankly at me. I thought, “Are you still in shock? I am literally shepherding you through this conversation. I just need a little commitment; frankly anything other than a ‘no’ at this point to keep the routine alive.” Much to my disappointment she continued to be disengaged as I pulled out my final, convincing closing arguments geared to win the adults over but they fell on deaf ears. Faced with in an insurmountable challenge, I capitulated. However, as a constant reminder to my mom that I will forever harbor animosity for discontinuing my routine, whenever I am asked what I want to be when go up I say a garbage man; I wanted to be a dentist but my mom crushed that dream. Even when I am not asked the question, if my mom is around, I just randomly state, “I want to be a garbage man when I grow up; I wanted to be a dentist but my mom crushed that dream.” As people rush to judgement, my mother is forced to jump in to defend her position. My mother then commonly shoots me some side eye, not laser eyes, but some crazy side eyes, for sure, with a hint of a smile as a sign of acknowledgement that my wittiness is becoming really entertaining but also a real challenge.