dentist wisdom

playdoh-dentist-set In general, I hate going to the dentist. I don’t like how uncomfortable the whole process is, having your mouth stretched open and having two people poke around with pics and drills and spit-sucking tubes — bleech. Not my idea of fun.

But my dentist himself is actually such a nice man and very warm, and he’s very chatty. While he works on my teeth, he often talks about his family, what shows he likes, how criminal health insurance is. My minor complaints are when he asks me questions (I’m busy) and when he gets distracted (because he is holding sharp objects near my mouth. Any other time, that would not bother me in the least.) He used to ask a lot about of my old jobs as a personal assistant to a mega-successful businessman, because it reminded him of Elaine’s jobs from “Seinfeld.”

Today, I add one more complaint: Don’t make me laugh when I’m in the chair. He and his assistant went on extensively about the drawbacks of having a pet. She talked about painfully early walks at 5 a.m. in the cold, and he went on and on about cats, how they never die, and when they don’t go to the bathroom, it’s insane. Like the smell in his bedroom one time…and I had to call a time-out.

But the lesson I walk away with is think twice about having a pet — because really, they’re in your life for decades.

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