I Wouldn't Credit It

"That's rather clever," said the pretty young dentist, as she peered into my mercury-filled mouth.

She was talking about the way my previous private dentists have artfully smeared some kind of whitish overlay porcelain filler-stuff onto two of my front teeth, making them look straighter and less sticky-outy. The result is that the cutting edge of them is very thick, but I don't care - anything in the name of beauty.

My little family has been going to the same private dentist in Ashburton for over ten years. We used to see Lucinda who is very nice and takes a lot of trouble over us. But now we are poor I felt we ought to check out the NHS option down the road.

It was totally empty, and the light, bright waiting room upstairs is about 50' by 25' , very comfortable, nicely laid out magazines etc, but we didn't have to wait in it, as we  were all ushered straight away in to see the dentist.

"Very nice clean teeth," she said to Beloved Daughter.

"WHAT?!" I jerked out of my revery dreaming of the ultimate American capped smile - not like David Bowie's.

My new, intensive regime to ensure that a reluctant Daughter now cleans her teeth twice a day, while Esteemed Partner counts to 100 in Spanish, French and Russian, astonishingly seems to have worked.  I have been berating myself for the past six months, as last visit she had to have two fillings - clear proof, in my book, that I am a bad mother.

So we went over to reception, all with 100% clean bill of health, to pay as usual.

The nice lady said, "If you're on child tax credits it's free - you just need to let me have the number on your white card."

"Blimey - that's good," I replied, "But I don't remember receiving a white card."

"That's OK," the lady said, "You can ring me when you find it when you get home."

So off we went for macaroni cheese in the Green Ginger, having paid nothing at all for our dental visit with our lovely charming new dentist, in such a glorious ambience, and enjoyed ourselves a lot.

Later that day I was talking this through with a friend who was also born with a silver spoon in their mouth, private school/university education, comfortable family blah blah blah; who had had a crown fitted the very same day. "God how much was that?" I gasped. "£400?"

No, entirely free, because that friend is on 'working tax credits'.

And I qualify for 'child tax credits', just because my ex-husband lives at a different address - even if he earned a million quid apparently I would still be eligible! In effect this means that the tax payer is subsidising men who choose to stray.

And another mate with whom I was discussing this the other day says she spends her child benefit on Cava, as her children's private school fees are already covered.

It's a very odd system.  I know it's necessary for some people, but I don't think it should cover people like us. I shall, however, continue to claim if the money's there. Just as I continue to fly, as the planes are there, and drive a car, as Marvin's just outside. I turn the lights and the heating down, because I am mean and own lots of woolly jumpers, not because I think I can influence the rest of the world.

But I hope that in time all these benefits available to people who can, or should be able, to pay for them themselves, are eventually eradicated.  And when the Daily Mail reports on it, screaming "Shock horror squeeze on the middle classes yet again", I shall say "Good".

Meanwhile I have just discovered that my income is too high for me to qualify for the mysterious white card, and I have had to stump up £17.50 after all, for my examination.