Tuesday, January 30, 2001:
Matt goes to the dentist. I meet Sharon there. We talk of everyday things, but with a child under anaesthetic, the subtext is always heavy. Very thankfully, all went well. Five cavities! And since the decay had reached the nerves, we’ve got the prospect of death and discolouration once again. We have trouble! The dentist is talking about something, but since he doesn’t use consonants, we’re not sure what it is.
We discover that people’s personalities are constant and unwavering, even when they’re doped up. Even when practically unconscious, Matty can’t sit still. He flips, he flops, he kicks, and for a brief moment, he hugs me furiously. We get him back home, put him on the couch, play Arthur while he’s sleeping. I do an errand. He’s still down. I go to a bishopric meeting. Now he’s watching Toy Story, gesturing with his hands, talking emphatically, and, when he gets up, knocking things over.