My Fillings About The Dentist – Take 2

More than six years ago, I wrote a post titled “my fillings” about the dentist. (And if you happen to take a trip into my archives, please excuse those stupid squares you see strewn about that post. Y’all, the crazy characters are making me crazy to the point that I don’t want to even go back and look at old posts, because I can’t stand to see them.) And before you suggest that I go in and edit the characters to remove them from the post, I can’t do that. I can’t do that because while installing my new blog design, Heather my technical team sent me a text that said, “Working on those characters now. DO NOT go in and edit any posts that have those characters…. just trust me on that one.”

And since I trust her with my bloggy life, I do what she tells me to do regarding matters of the blog.  And then I come here every evening and complain about the characters, because THAT is something I can do.

Do you see how easy I get off track?

Where was I?

Oh, right, the Dentist.

My Dentist recently left the Dental practice he shared with two other Dentists to open his very own office. Today was my first visit to the new office. Since I’ve never been big on change, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about his fancy new office on the Boulevard.

For starters, this was the view from my dental chair

The previous office was dark and drab and boring.

On top of this spectacular view of the Kanawha River, there was a television at each new massaging dental chair.

Yes, you heard me right.

I said, massaging. dental. chair.

Can I get a HOLLA?

The only thing missing was an ocean breeze, sea-gulls squawking and a fruity drink with a little yellow paper umbrella.

As I sat in that massaging chair, all sprawled out, watching “Let’s Make A Deal” it dawned on me that I could have invented that massaging dental chair because I have remarked to McDaddy on several different occasions that a massage chair would take the dental visit to a whole new level.

Or something like that.

And as is usually the case, I was right.

On top of all that newfound dental fabulosity, I didn’t get the dreaded floss lesson and subsequent place of honor on the “Need To Floss More Wall Of Shame” which is a miracle, because I – unlike McDaddy – do not faithfully floss every single day like I should. But, I am getting better.

The moral of this story is, now that there’s a massage chair, my “fillings” about the Dentist have changed.

Have a great weekend, y’all!

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