Unlike Liz, my teeth and I have a good relationship. They’re strong and allow me to take large bites of food, masticate them thoroughly and magically make the food disappear from my plate.
Today I went to the dentist for the second time since I started up my regular visits again this year. The word “wow” was repeated several times, but not in reference to an almost emergency root canal. They kept saying I have perfect teeth. I brush daily. I floss maybe once a month if I think to. I drink way too much pop (it keeps me from shaking when I’m hopped up on asthma drugs) and I never try to keep that bar behind my bottom teeth cleaned. It must have good teeth genes.
The only complaint I have is that the lady that has cleaned my teeth these past two times is a compulsive talker. How am I really supposed to respond with your hands in my mouth?
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