Tuesday, February 16, 2010

The dentist discovered I'm ex-black-ops

Yesterday, I went to the dentist. I received my first two fillings, at age 27. Or so I thought.

The dentist claimed these were fillings two and three! I scrunched my brow in denial as he asserted he’d come upon some existing dental work. I protested, “Impossible!” but the dental assistant’s latex digits – pulling my mouth into a grotesque yawn – caused this expression to sound as, “Hinghohhihul!”

Sensing my disbelief, the man supported his case by holding a white speck in my eye line betwixt some tweezers.

Conjured explanations:
  • He just chipped my tooth! He’s crying “filling” to cover his tracks. Minx.
  • My husband and I have redefined “lip-locking.”
  • The dentist had petrified tofu for lunch and a wedged-in left-over fell free. Gag.
  • I was abducted. Mr Tofu here just did me a favour by removing my captor’s tracking device.
  • No, if I’m going with induced amnesia, I’m Jasonette Bourne.

P.S. Floss. Always.
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