As a child, I always loved going to the dentist. I was not one of those kids who was traumatized by barbaric dental practices such as being put in a straight jacket during my cleanings. I adored Dr. J, the charming southern gentleman who only mildly scolded me for never flossing, who pinky swore he would never, ever hurt me. When I was eight, he had some bad news for me.
"Now darlin', I'm gonna have pull your last four baby teeth," he said gently. "You know how I promised I would never hurt you?"
I nodded, tears streaming down my face.
"Well, when I make a promise, I keep it dang it! If I hurt you, you don't ever have to come back again. Deal?"
No comments:
Post a Comment