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Thursday, June 16, 2005

Come on get happy!

After Sarabelle had her braces put on, I had a dental appointment.

Since the last guy recommended I replace my metal fillings with newer enamel colored ones, did one, then damaged the tooth so badly it needed a root canal, and then suggested after all that, it should really be crowned too, you could say I'm more than a little skeptical of dentists' motives. As far as I'm concerned, they're on par with vets, always creating new, expensive, and usually unnecessary treatments involving many repeat visits. No, thanks.

Upon entering the well-decorated office, with its supposed-to-be-soothing water sculpture, scented candles, and new age-y music droning in the background (to cover the sounds of drilling and screaming no doubt), we were greeted, or attacked, by the really excited receptionist, who just wanted to be my very best friend in the whole world. She launched herself out of her chair to shake my hand, and nearly fell across the front desk. Then the super elated robot assistant lady came out, introduced herself, and walked us back to the treatment room giving us a tour of the facilities along the way. The whole time I'm thinking HOW MUCH IS THIS GOING TO COST ME? WHO IS PAYING FOR ALL THIS HAPPINESS?

This was a one-man show, yet he had at least seven treatment rooms, so I expected the bum's rush. How wrong I was. He took loads of time chatting it up with me and the girls. He also won my heart by telling me that he's still got all his metal fillings, and that he wouldn't mess with my discolored root canal tooth, capping it could damage it more. Even if aesthetically it was really bothersome, if I were his sister, he would still recommend leaving it alone. AH, BUT WHAT IF I WAS YOUR GIRLFRIEND? He also debunked the high numbers given me by the last dentist when he measured the pockets in my gums. No sixes and sevens like I was told last time; mostly twos and threes for this smiley face. "Your last dentist's advice was, uh, let's just say with your daughters here, 'inaccurate'."

But the best part was that he looked like Danny Bonaduce.*

And so, from the broken record that is my mind today:

I'm sleeping
And right in the middle of a good dream
like all at once I wake up
From something that keeps knocking at my brain
Before I go insane
I hold my pillow to my head
And spring up in my bed
Screaming out the words I dread:
"I think I love you!" (I think I love you)

This morning, I woke up with this feeling
I didn't know how to deal with
And so I just decided to myself
I'd hide it to myself
And never talk about it
And didn't I go and shout it
When you walked into my room.
"I think I love you!" (I think I love you)

I think I love you
So what am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
A love there is no cure for
I think I love you
Isn't that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say
I've never felt this way

Believe me
You really don't have to worry
I only want to make you happy
And if you say,
hey, go away, I will
But I think better still
I ought to stay around and love you
Do you think I have a case?
Let me ask you to your face:
Do you think you love me?
I think I love you!

*Edited later to add -- Not that I like Danny or anything, although I did bizarrely find him cuter than Keith, it's just that I only heard about fifty percent of what the doc was saying because the rest of the time I was thinking DANNY BONADUCE IS MY DENTIST, BRING ON THE NITROUS, BABY, HAHAHAHAHA!

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