But I floss everyday

It was the kids' first day back to school, and I celebrated by going to the dentist.

Now you know how much I hate going to the dentist. Hate. It. But I go to be a good example to my children, and to ensure that I will be able to eat peanuts when I'm 90. Today is supposed to be the 6 or 9 month cleaning, and oh yeah, we just want to replace one of your old childhood fillings with a new one. Not that it's broken or otherwise offensive except for the fact that it's silver and was put in during the Carter administration. But it's not bothering anyone since it is in the back of my mouth and he's the only one who can see it.

Anyway, I agree to replace it, because they start their fancy talk about bicuspids and fluoride and I get all confused and agree to needless medical treatments. And that makes me an idiot.

Dr. starts drilling away, and at first, I'm okay with it. This is part of being a grown-up--dealing with oral pain. I can do this. It hurts despite the Novocaine, but I persevere until he brings out the big guns. As in a big, loud, heaving jackhammer. He pulls this thing out and I immediately feel the plates in my head shift. A brain scan at that very moment would have registered a 6.8 on the Richter scale. I must have winced, or had a seizure, because Dr. said, "Oh, is that painful?"

"Not really painful, I'm just a little dizzy because I think my hypothalamus has dislodged."

I thought it was funny, but judging from his non reaction and his joyous return to the riveter, maybe for him not so much. I realize that perhaps 'hypothalamus' might sound curiously like, 'you're an ass' when your mouth is packed with gauze and you have no control over the left side of your face.

Six and a half hours later, he finishes replacing the perfectly fine filling, charges me $260 for the pleasure and I try to realign my eyesight enough to drive home.

At least I got a new toothbrush.

(And oh yeah, you are an ass.)