It's not physical pain though, it's the other kind. The kind I get while sitting in my hairdressers chair, just not as much.

My dentist is just fine. He's gentle, really nice and he's easy on the eyes. It's his receptionist/assistant that sends me spiraling to hell. She's in her late 60's I'm guessing. She's also his mother, so she's not going anywhere anytime soon. He took over the business from his dad, but dad still hangs around. He's pretty cute the way he shuffles around the office with his suit jacket buttoned askew. I don't think I've ever been there and seen his buttons in the right button holes. And he really does shuffle. Kind of a night of the living dead sort of thing. His job, now that he's retired and all, is to ask you if you need a parking stamp. Oh, and he brings the x-rays from the dark room to my dentist.

"Mom" still wears a beehive, but it never looks like she's fresh from the beauty shop. It's a do-it-yourself beehive, complete with the little curls in front of her ears that require wearing hair tape the night before. She has completely drawn on thick eyebrows, and she also never really gets her eyeliner on straight so when she's in your face it can get kind of scary.

But these aren't the things that annoy me. So, what is it that bothers me about this woman you may be wondering. Two things. She asks me questions that require more than a yes or no answer while I have all kinds of dental paraphernalia in my mouth. The second and most annoying thing is her jokes. She tells the same ones EVERY time I go there. They are jokes that maybe a six year old would like. She'll tell them, then stand right up in your face and look all excited that she pulled one over on you while saying, "do you get it? do you get it?"

I play the game because I'm a nice girl. I pretend to never have heard the joke before and do my best to laugh and not roll my eyes. Here are two of my favorites. I share them with you because I know you're just dying to hear them.

Joke 1:
Dentist's Mom (DM): Why is eight afraid of seven?
Me: (thinking I can't believe I hear this one every.time.I.go.to.the.dentist. but I'll play along) I don't know. Why?
DM: Because seven ate (eight) nine.
DM: Do you get it? Do you get it, huh?

Joke 2:
DM: How many reindeers does Santa have?
Me: Ummmm, eight?
DM:Are you including Rudolf?
Me: Oh, ok, nine
DM: No, there are 10.
Me: Oh (thinking here we go again.....)
DM: Do you know how I know?
Me: (thinking, please just tell the freakin' joke already and get this over with...)
DM: Because there was a reindeer named Olive. Think about it!

Then she sings the Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer song and emphasises "Olive (all of) the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names..."

DM: (Laughing as if this is the first time she's heard this joke, much less told it. ) Isn't that funny? Did you get it? Did you get it, huh?
Me: Oh, that's a good one!

But I go back because as painful as it is for me, I can't imagine how my dentist lives through it day after day after day after day (just imagine that to infinity.) Sometimes he lets comments slip that make me giggle. Comments that assure me that I'm not the only one who is feeling pain in the dentist's office. So, I go there to support another person whose mother drives them insane.

My dentist is a saint.