Two years of school, a board exam, a state licence, and the world still calls her "the girl who cleans teeth." This dental hygienist tote puts the credential where it belongs: REGISTERED DENTAL HYGIENIST arched across the top of an engraved crest, letterspaced wide in a serif that means it, a molar set inside the ring like a coat of arms, mirror and probe crossed behind it. Only then, on the ribbon at the foot, does it allow one dry line: LICENSED TO SCALE. Proud first, funny second: carried to a conference, and still good for a laugh in the break room.
Long shoulder handles and a roomy interior, room for lunch, loupes, a change of shoes and the everyday carry. The tote she buys herself the week the licence arrives, the one a family finally gets right for a new RDH, and the one an office orders together for Dental Hygienists Week.
