So, here's another annoying story of why I heart my husband, K, so much...
Here's a little background first, pertinent to the story:
My bi-annual dentist appointment was scheduled for this afternoon. Just like every 8 year old I know (all one of them), I HATE going to the dentist. For someone who has never even been on the receiving end of a drill or a 9 inch long needle (or a bottle of vodka and pliers, or even a string and door nob, for that matter), it still freaks me out though.
It's the awful scraping of those sinister looking tools against my teeth when they remove 6 months worth of food bits and wine/tea stains. It sounds like fingernails on a chalkboard, but in surround sound contained in my head. In junction, those double-sided tools glistening with blood as the hygienist alternates between each end of the tool makes the situation that much more unpalatable. Finally, there is the indignity of the whole situation. Laying with your mouth stretched open like a dying fish, with a highly powered light shining into your mouth and up your nose for an hour can only promote self consciousness.
Back to the point of this story, though.
K knows my feelings on the dentist, of course. So, when I arrive at my appointment today, guess who meets me in the dentist parking lot with a rose and some encouraging words before my appointment?
I gotta say, after such an unexpected romantic distraction, the dentist wasn't so bad afterall...