Pinch Me

So yesterday I had to stop by the dentist on the way home.

Like almost anyone, I don't like going to the dentist. I used to absolutely hate it, but my obsession with knowing my teeth are clean (do you guys ever have that dream where all your teeth are falling out? I used to have it all the time and I'm still traumatized) has ensured that I go approximately every 6 months for my cleaning and checkup.

However this time I'd managed to put it off for 10 months, and last week a paranoia suddenly struck me and I was convinced that despite not having any pain or anything, I was going to end up like this kid.

Anyway, I trudged over to my usual dentist last night, where he inspected my teeth and then said to me "Okay Zander, I'm going to clean your teeth now and then we can have a chat."

I'm sorry, but doesn't that sound really ominous. So I sit there while he cleans my teeth, convinced that he's going to finish and then tell me that they all need to be ripped out because I haven't flossed 18 times a day for the past 27 years.

Finally he finished and had me sit up, and his words to me were "Your teeth and gums are perfect."

I will swear by all that is holy that I have NEVER heard that from a dentist before, and never expected to. Generally all I get (even from this dentist) is disapproving looks and then a lecture about how much I suck and all of my teeth will fall out by the time I'm 40.

So I'm still just a little bit ecstatic and loving that my investment in a $300 electric toothbrush last year may actually have been worth it.

And that's it. Me bragging about my teeth. Although I'm on my way to pub trivia at the moment, so I will try to bring back stories about how super smart I am after 8 pints of beer.