The dentist’s office or a spa?

I’m going to write something that I never thought I would write. Here goes... I truly enjoyed my trip to the dentist yesterday. Usually, I think of dentist trips as sitting under the light (a rudimentary interrogation lamp) where you feel guilty for not flossing enough and try to answer questions that require more than a “yes” or “no” with a mouth full of metal tools. But yesterday, my trip was completely different. It involved a massage, chocolate, magazines, and Cesar Millan (aka, the “Dog Whisperer”). I’m not even joking because I would never joke about important topics like chocolate or Cesar Millan. I went into the dentist, observing and noting everything, ready to report to my friend (also new to the area) because she wanted to know if she should go to the same dentist. (The short answer is yes! Please go to this dentist!) First, I was impressed by their magazine selection. The magazines were all current, there was a good variety (travel, current events, fashion), and they were all neatly laid out in protective coverings. I enjoyed my 10 minutes of reading the magazines. (Truthfully, I wouldn’t have minded waiting a little longer to browse through a couple others.) The dental hygienist was pleasant and friendly. Imagine my surprise when I sat in the chair and noticed there was a TV! Turned to Cesar Millan’s Dog Whisperer show! Something about hearing Cesar Millan’s voice talking about “calm, submissive dogs” made me just want to roll over and relax. Next came the massage. The hygienist called it a “neck and face cancer screening,” but I wasn’t fooled. It was a great, relaxing massage. Then she polished my teeth, and I detected the distinct taste of chocolate! I asked her just to be sure (was I dreaming?), and she confirmed that it was chocolate mint flavor. Apparently, dentists have finally figured out what the rest of us have known for a long time (that chocolate is a good thing), and they’ve finally ended their decades-long boycott against it. Oh, and the dentist was great and did a thorough check of my teeth. The best part is that our insurance actually paid for this. Please don’t tell them how much I enjoyed it, or I might be forced to go to a dentist with ragged magazines, no massage, no chocolate, and elevator music instead of Cesar Millan. My teeth and I have come too far to go back there.