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Fear, Guilt and Dental Floss

Do you like the Dentist? I do. I love the way that my teeth feel after they’ve been cleaned. I don’t even mind the scraping and poking of the… umm… scraping and poking tool. And I kind of like the ’stuffing your mouth full of film’ x-ray part. So, minus the drilling and the pulling, I consider the dentist to be a pretty cool person.

I have found that most people dislike going to the dentist. I’m not sure why. Perhaps they hate keeping their mouths open for so long. Or the hurting of the dental tools. Or the sound of the drills. Probably all of the above.

I suspect, however, that there may be another anxiety that comes into play during a trip to the dentist. It comes in the form of a question (perhaps from the all too perky Hygenist). So, have you been flossing?

You sit, pinned to the chair by a heavy lead apron, unable to answer. She glares down at you under the yellow light of the adjustable lamp… Do you tell the truth? “No, I have not, in fact, been flossing. Which ring of Hell has been reserved for me?” Or do you lie through your teeth (no pun intended)?? “Of course I’ve been flossing! Can’t you tell?”

The pressure, the guilt! There’s no where to turn and it’s impossible to change the subject.

So, do YOU floss? ummm. ahhhh… How about them Red Sox, eh?