Later, she would ask me what flavour of polish I wanted: Orange, Bubble gum, or Raspberry. I chose raspberry.

I spent the afternoon at my dentist's office. Not because I underwent any sort of lengthy procedure, rather because I simply enjoy spending time with dental hygienists. I had two separate dental appointments scheduled; one for my chipped tooth, and the other for my six month cleaning. As it turned out, the chip out of my bicuspid was entirely superficial and only required a minimal amount of grinding to smooth out its surface. The only painful part of the entire ordeal was the lecture I received from my dentist.
"This is all for you," I told him. "I felt like we weren't spending enough time together, so I took matters into my own hands. You should be thanking me. I only do these things to ensure the continued financial success of your practice." My dentist enjoys giving me fatherly lectures. This could be because he has been my dentist since I cut my first tooth, or perhaps because he has known my mother since his birth and thus feels that we are family.
I waited for over an hour between my two appointments, primarily because they had anticipated a more lengthy procedure to repair my chipped tooth. In that time, I decided to read The Last Temptation of Christ. It had been on the assigned reading list for a class I took three and a half years ago, and I felt like it was finally time that I got around to reading it. I cleared the first four chapters before I was called upon to have my teeth cleaned. For some reason the dental hygienist felt the need to apologize profusely for my wait time. "It is fine," I assured her, "it does not hurt me to wait and my appointments were scheduled an hour and ten minutes apart so I suspected that I might have to wait in between them."
Every time I go in to have my teeth cleaned I am asked by the dental hygienist what is new. I would have an easier time answering this question if I had the same dental hygienist each time I went to the dentist's office. Instead, I am left to wonder exactly how much information I should disclose. If it is a new dental hygienist, most everything in my life is new - though I somehow doubt she would be interested to learn that I once dislocated my wrist in an intense water-wing accident. I decided that it was probably best to merely give a summary of what has occurred in my life since my last visit to the dentist. For all I know, the dental hygienists could actually be taking down notes about the going-ons of my life rather than writing about the condition of my teeth each time they add something new to my chart. How embarrassing would it be if I repeated a story that had already been noted? Answer: very.
"I graduated from University, sold my house, moved back in with my parents, bought a new car, and was accepted everywhere I applied for post-degree work. As expected, my parents are thrilled about it all, especially to have me return home after living on my own for two and a half years."
"It is to be expected," my dental hygienist told me, "you are part of the boomerang generation."
I nodded my head, which was all I could do as several dental instruments were in my mouth at the time, glad that she understood my plight.