(I have taken my teenage son to the dentist. When it is almost time to leave, I have this conversation with one of their receptionists.)

Receptionist: “You need to make his next appointment. What day works best for you?”

Me: “He has the opportunity to live with his dad in Dubai this year, so I can’t commit to a date since I am not sure when he will be back.”

Receptionist: “Where?”

Me: “Dubai?”

Receptionist: *blank stare* “Is that in Tennessee?”

Me: “Dubai, as in the United Arab Emirates.”

Receptionist: “Where?”

Me: “The United Arab Emirates.”

Receptionist: “Is that in the United States?”

Me: “No. It is the Middle East.”

Receptionist: “Oh, like Iowa or West Virginia!”

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(I’m making small talk with the hygienist before he starts cleaning my teeth.)

Me: “So, what did you do for Memorial Day?”

Hygienist: “Oh, my daughter graduated preschool posthumously. It was really fun.”

Me: *horrified* “What?! I think you mean a different word. ‘Posthumously’ means ‘after death’.”

Hygienist: “Oh! Yeah, nobody died.”

Me: “Thank God! I was about to start consoling you!”

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(My father is a dentist, and he is known among his dentist friends for having insane patients. This one really takes the cake, though.)

Dental Office: “Good morning, this is Dr. [Name]’s office. How may I help you?”

Patient: “Yes, it’s [Patient’s Name]. I’d like to cancel my appointment for today.”

Dental Office: “I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why you’re canceling?”

Patient: “I have this awful toothache!”

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(I am getting my molars removed for the first time, and I’m freaking out. My sister decides to take advantage.)

Me: *to receptionist* “So, where are they going take me for the procedure?”

Sister: “A dark, scary dungeon.”

Me: *to sister* “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” *to receptionist* “How’s the dentist planning on sedating me?”

Receptionist: “Well-”

Sister: “They’re going to strap you to a table and beat you with a log until you’re unconscious. Or your teeth fall out. Whichever comes first.”

Me: *to receptionist* “How long am I going to be out?”

Receptionist: “Well–”

Sister: “Years.”

Receptionist: “Oh my God, would you stop? Your brother is turning pale!”

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Patient: “I think there’s something wrong with my tooth.”

Me: “Can you describe the problem?”

Patient: “Well, I think it’s loose.”

(The patient suddenly spits his tooth onto the counter in front of me.)

Me: “Yes… Yes, I think you’re right.”

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