Friday, July 16, 2010

Dear Dentist

Oh, dentist
How I very strongly do not like going to see you
The way you give me a painful shot
To numb the pain
The way you ask me to open just a little wider
When I can't
The way you ask me questions
While your hand is in my mouth
The last time I saw you
You tried to hold back the snickers
As you, more or less,
Called me a metal mouth
And then you charged me with
"Three cavitites!"
But I've brushed my teeth every day
And even flossed them
In between every single tooth
For about three weeks now
Which is the longest I've ever gone in my life
So perhaps next time I see you
You will tell me that
My teeth are magically regrowing themselves
The cavities are going away
And all of my silver cavities are magically turning white
Perhaps you will tell me that my teeth are the most beautiful
The whitest and healthiest in all the land
What's that you say, Dentist?
Open a little wider please?
Bite me.
Or on second thought
Maybe I'll just bite you


Kendra said...

Very clever.

Dagny said...

Love it! I *abhor* going to the dentist.

Kathy Haynie said...

Haha - better warn the dentist! Sorry you have to go again...