You may remember a few weeks ago when I had a terrible experience with a dentist office.


Just thinking about that place makes me want to rip my hair out.

The dentist, Dr. McStinky, told me that I had three cavities that needed to be filled, and I left the office crying because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to find a good dentist that takes my insurance, and I most certainly wasn’t going to return to that office. In case you’re not up to date on my dental care, here are a few key words from my visit to Dr. McStinky’s office: rap music, club shooting, baby daddy, and strippers. None of these things have anything to do with teeth (although some rappers, some baby daddys, and some strippers have them).

For assistance, I turned to the internet. I submitted a request on Mamasource so local moms could give me advice. I received 15 dentist recommendations. Four of those dentists take my insurance, but only one of them was accepting new patients.


I made an appointment for an exam (after clearing it with my insurance) and went in last Tuesday. As I filled out new paperwork for the second time in a month, I saw a young man walk back behind the desk.

Dude! It was the dentist!

This threw me off because obviously there are young dentists out there, but I’d never seen one before. I’ve always been treated by kind, balding or grayish men who listen to soft hits, and I wasn’t prepared to deal with a man of the younger and extremely better looking variety.

I soon found myself in the chair being x-rayed by a wonderful hygienist. Then came the dentist, Dr. McYoungster. He took a few minutes to sit down and get to know me. I think that’s the best thing a doctor can do for a patient. I’m so much more comfortable asking questions and seeking advice from a doctor who has gone out of his way to make me feel valuable as a patient. Dr. McYoungster proceeded to poke and prod at my pearly whites for a while, and that’s when I decided to smell him.

By golly, I’m creepy!

But the dentist smelled good (very important), and he sang along with Jason Mraz.

Friends, I think I’m in love (in an I-want-you-to-be-my-one-and-only-dentist sort of way).

(which is a lot like the love I have for my OB/GYN ‘cept he doesn’t touch my teeth).

As it turns out, I don’t have any cavities. Do you hear that, Dr. McStinky?

But I have two fillings that Dr. McYoungster wants to fix because they overlap two teeth and prevent me from flossing, so I’m going back next week. Also, I need my wisdom teeth out (been dreading it for years).

When I came home, I annoyed Scotty to the point of wanting to pull his own teeth out with talk of my new dentist. It was then that Scotty accused me of flirting with Dr. McYoungster.

People, I do not flirt with dentists, but here’s a note I received in the mail from Dr. McYoungster just two days after my visit:

Yep. I’m pretty sure he’s in love with me.