Smell the roses

February 12, 2014
When it comes to going to the dentist I'm a big baby.

My dentist makes my heart beat faster, but not in a good way like a run does.

Because I'm such a scaredy cat, I go to the dentist twice a year. Because if I don't, getting myself out the door and into his, becomes even harder. Going to the dentist is a lot like running that way. It's best to get in a rythm, and not think too much about it.

The dentist knows I'm a skittish patient. So if I call them around 8 in the morning and ask if they can see me the same day, they try and squeeze  me in. That's what happened last Monday morning. I had just gotten home from my run, when I suddenly decided: 'I need to go to the dentist. Like right now.'

So I called them on the telephone, and asked if they could fit me in. Indeed they could! They could see me in 15 minutes! There I was: all smelly and sweaty from running. But I wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

So I ran to my car, and drove to the dentist. But on the way there I started to worry about smelling bad. I didn't want to get the dentist to get a whiff of me. So when I got there, I ducked into the bathroom looking for something to make me smell better. Anything.

As luck would have it, I spotted a can of toilet spray. So I sprayed some in my crotch area and my arm pits.

My teeth turned out to be fine.

And when I left the dentist my life, and crotch smelt like roses.

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