Pros & cons of marrying a dentist

I used my dental insurance last week. So adult, right? Plus, I am the first person in my family who has dental insurance. Give me a gold star, I know. I’ve been going to the same dentist since the day I had my first tooth. This loyalty is due to the fact that my mother used to work at the dentist office. Through out the 22 years I’ve had teeth, my dentist office location has changed once (they upgraded to this posh place overlooking a golf course). While I have my mouth worked on, I get to look out and see men in argyle socks and pom pom hats whap things with iron sticks.

When I went to the dentist on Thursday, I had to sit in the waiting room, and all of a sudden my childhood was staring right back at me. I was looking in a corner of the room at a tiny table that had a Lego board for a table top. It was yellow, red, blue, and green. In the center of the table top there is a hole where a bag full of large sized Legos are stored. I stared at the table and the tiny chair, trying to imagine myself sitting it in. Because I had before. It was the exact same Lego table that I had played with every time I came to the dentist as a tot. The table was only about a foot and a half tall, but in my mind, I feel like I had played at that table until I was at least ten. How did I ever fit? I shook my elementary memories from my mind when the dental hygienist came out and called my name.

While in the chair, looking out upon the golf course, sunglasses on my face, polishing grit in my mouth, I thought about a text book I had once read for my Drugs and Alcohol college class. It said that dentists are the number one professionals who commit suicide. I was told this is because they have access to all those gasses, like nitrous oxide, and that they abuse them. Makes you wonder how being a dentist could lead to a crappy life. I mean, you know that elf from that Christmas TV special who wants to grow up to be a dentist? And he goes to the island of misfit toys? I guess he was kind of upset, but it was mostly because he wasn’t a dentist. I’m not gonna lie, I think marrying a dentist would be a good choice for two reasons: 1) They’re rich, and 2) They’re guaranteed to have nice teeth. But if they’re going to go all suicidal on me, I think I’ll stay away.

After I was done, instead of choosing a birthstone ring or sticker out of the prize door like I did when I was little, I handed over my insurance card to pay for my bill. However, one thing has remained the same over 22 years—still no cavities! I called my mom to tell her, because I knew she’d be proud.