Laughing in the Dentist's Chair

Today I went straight from work to a dentist appointment. I hate dentists. I loathe them with a bitter and deep-seated loathing surpassed only by my loathing of burnt rice at the bottom of cooking pots.

But that isn't really what I wanted to write about. I'm going to focus on the one gem of humor in the middle of my otherwise rather torturous imprisonment in the dentist's chair.

So I was sitting in the Dentist's 'Lazy Boy' (sadistic sense of humor she has) with the worthy medico fishing about in my mouth. Suddenly she said "Oh my!" and my heart sank.

"Have you been sick recently?" This question didn't do much to relieve my fears.

"Ummm, no, I haven't."

"Because your tonsil is very large!"

"Oh." What does that mean? And wait, don't I have two of them? What about the other one?

She called a friend over. Suddenly I had not one but two curious dentists peering down my throat and exclaiming over the size of my tonsils.

"Wow! I've never seen one as big as that."

"It's really huge!"

Then they haggled over who I should have look at it to make sure it wasn't wildly infected or something. Yes, but what if I just have naturally big tonsils?

Anyway, the upshot to my impromtu throat viewing is that I have to go back in two weeks when the resident oral surgeon is in residence (possibly indicated by a large flag hanging outside the building and bearing the image of two pairs of pliers rampant). He will also peer down my throat to view the phenomenon and pronounce me either dead before dinner or just the possessor of really big tonsils.

But don't come asking to see them.