This morning I had my bi-annual checkup at the dentist. On the list of things I look forward to in life, this one definitely sinks to the bottom. As if my normal fear of the dentist wasn’t enough, I now fear which dental hygeniest I am going to get when I walk through the door.

It could be the sadistic woman who likes inflicting pain on her patients by jamming the sharp end of her dental instruments three centimeters under the gum line. This is the same woman who prides herself on how many areas of the gum she can get to bleed.

Or it could be the overly-chatty woman who continues to talk to me with both hands and a couple of dental instruments in my mouth. She doesn’t hurt you but she makes you feel like an idiot.

Or it could be the one who works on one section of your teeth for entirely too long without giving you a chance to swallow the built-up saliva in your mouth. I’m pretty sure there is a torture camp somewhere in the world that tortures prisoners by putting dental instruments in their mouth and not allowing them to swallow until they tell the truth.

Or it could be the 22-year old blonde that wears a low-cut shirt and leans inappropriately too close to you while cleaning your teeth. By the time my appointment is over I’ve recited every Super Bowl statistic for the last 25 years.

Ok, I actually wouldn’t mind that last one but unfortunately she only exists in my imagination.

Or it could be the middle-aged woman that asks a few polite questions then gets down to business scraping your teeth just hard enough to really get them clean but not actually hurt you. She will even occasionally ask you how you are doing in case you aren’t comfortable.

Check the stars tonight because they will probably be in perfect alignment. Yup, I got the middle-aged, no-pain, cares-about-your-well-being hygeniest today. Woot woot!