spit

Last week I took Casey to the dentist for a regular cleaning and check up. She is such a good patient, everyone always remarks on how cooperative she is. I don't even go back with her anymore, I sat in the lobby reading, and in just a little while they brought her back to me and said she looked great. She smiled, so I thought she was quite pleased with herself. But she was very quiet while I checked out and so when we got to the car and she still hadn't said a word to me, I asked her if she was ok. She began to look rather concerned, but still didn't say anything. She just climbed into the car, grabbed a napkin and a pencil she found in the back seat and began to write, and I am wondering, is this a game, is she in pain, what in the world is going on. She handed me the napkin and on it she had written, "I didn't get to spit."