Dental Damns

Ever since my Novocain-less root canal of 1999 I have been a stickler about getting my teeth cleaned regularly. For the record, though, my root canal was not due to dental denial but more due to a piece of pavement hell bent on meeting my face head on and the accompanying 40 pound backpack that ensured this happening.

But I digress.

So I get to the dentist's office and immediately tell the girl, "I'm fine but a little more pregnant than the last time so - no xrays or needles or - um - anything pokey." We talked for a bit about her prego friends and whether or not mint polish would make me gag (we were safe) and then she started the cleaning.

My eyes were closed when I felt the tugging on my scalp. Curious, I opened my eyes and she giggled. "Sorry," she said, "I got the polisher caught in your hair! That's never happened! I mean, I poked my husband in the eye the other day during his cleaning - but at least I didn't pull his hair!"

I tried to swallow. "Well, glad to be an example!"

A few minutes later she added: "You have a tiny mouth,"frowning behind her blue mask she pulled a spitty polisher from my mouth. "And wet."

That's right.

The professional tooth lady told me I had a tiny, wet mouth.

I tried to giggle but choked on my own spit.

So call your dentist now, because you never know if you'll get the normal compliment of "your gums look nice!" or "no cavities!" or, the classic, "you have a tiny, wet mouth!"

ahahahahha :)