I have a fun dentist. You should get one.

I sit down in the chair and Mr. Dentist comes bounding in, like a school girl, saying, "what's new? What's going on? Tell me everything." I'm totally not even kidding. So I think to myself for a minute. Hmmmmmmmmmm, is he asking about teeth/dentistry stuff? Or are we to the point in our relationship where I can ask him about that rash on my butt? I decide to play it safe. "oh not much. Still having bad teeth." he just laughs and lowers my chair. He's a fun guy.

Question: when i'm in the dentist chair am I supposed to close my eyes and play it way cool? Or do what I normally do, which is stare straight ahead, all gimpy and wide-eyed, hoping to high-heaven he is looking in my mouth at all times and not at my mass of facial imperfections? This one confuses me to no end.

After numbing me up good and plenty, like those sick licorice candies, he proceeds to place on a dental dam(which is a green sheet of latex stuff they put around the tooth that needs work or something or other. I think. I don't actually know), while cranking my mouth open with a pint-size version of that tool the Gynecologist uses to check my business. It's pretty much all downhill from there in my head because all I can think about is birthing babies. Out of my mouth. I begin to feel a bit invaded. My mouth is stretched so far that when the dentist says, "we're just going to open you up a little wider" I have a split-second thought: dude, I can barely fit a whole lemon in this thing and you want me to pretty much fit a watermelon? A tad dramatic, yes. come on, guys, he had pretty much given me an epidural of the mouth!

Anywaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, he then says, "move your head to the side a snitch. Yeah, that's a real dentist word. There's plenty more where that came from." what? I don't even know what that means. But it's funny. And like I said, he's a fun guy. I think one day I'd like to be his dental hygienist. And I've never even thought of being anyone's dh before. But I'd be his.