Dentist

Okay, here's the deal.

I am not scared of the dentist. I've had too much done with my teeth to be fazed by the novocain, drills and tiny round mirror. (Someone might not like to floss but I'm not naming any names.) I am, however, prone to freaking out at the dentist during 2 instances.

1. When doing something in my mouth, the dentist asks for "the flame shaper." I've said it before and I'll say it again- I firmly believe nothing in my mouth needs shaping by flame.

2. Halfway through a 90-minute appointment to take down and re-do an old buildup during a crown replacement procedure, the power goes out. I don't care if there is a backup generator. I don't care that the actual power came back on 10 minutes later, having the power go out mid-appointment will bring the scariest man at Singh-Singh to his knees.

After the Nazi appointment (Nazi= evil), I was heading home when I noticed a stuffed animal on the roof of a local apartment. It made me wonder if a pair of siblings had an argument that ended with Fluffy's expulsion or crawling out on the roof was something the kid loved to do and he just forgot his toy.