Flossing

I have a dentist appointment today.

Semi-annual cleaning.

I hate going to the dentist.

Not for the usual reasons you hear about dentist dread. I’m not afraid of Novocain or drilling. Trips to the dentist are seldom painful for me in that way.

I dread the dentist’s office because I know I’m going to get the flossing lecture again.

I have good intentions about flossing. Really. And sometimes I even floss.

Last time I was there the dental tech was giving me the lecture about flossing and giving me a demonstration about how, if I use this special extra thin floss, it really won’t get stuck between my teeth.

Then she got it stuck between my teeth.

Then when she was trying to get it out, she broke it, and I had a piece of floss stuck between my teeth. She had to get it out with the pick.

After years of the flossing lecture, and this happening as I was getting the flossing lecture, I couldn’t help it. I said to her, “This is why I don’t floss.”

“Well,” she said, “with teeth that tightly packed together, I guess food won’t be able to get in there either, so it probably doesn’t matter.”

This was the first admission I’ve ever heard from someone in the dental-industrial complex that flossing might be over-rated.

But I’m still going to get the flossing lecture again today.

I just know it.