No, I'm not talking about Dick Cheney. I have to go to the dentist today for my regular check-up. And I'll face... her. The person that haunts my nightmares and makes me wake screaming from a sound sleep. I'm talking about...
The dental hygienist.
She of the picks and scrapes, she of the bleeding gums, she of the terrible-tasting and very messy tooth polish, she of the well-meaning but condescending advice to floss my teeth, even though I tell her that I floss every day (and I really do). Yes, that's the one, you know her. No more than five feet tall, with purple scrubs, a surgical mask and an evil glint in her eye.
I fear no man, but she terrifies me.
Think happy thoughts, cross your fingers, and pray for me. I go to face the dragon in its lair, to challenge the grizzly in its cave, to beard the lion in its den. If all goes as planned I'll come out of it with only sore gums, a bitter aftertaste, more advice to floss, and a new toothbrush. Wish me luck.
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Bonus points to you for actually and properly using the term "beard" in this sense!
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