Out of the mouths of ...

I spent seven hours with my father yesterday.

First, we went to his fascist Swiss ... well, I'm not sure WHAT he is, as he was purportedly going to look at my teeth, but spent a great deal of time talking about hating dentists. He has fairly severe OCD. The Pacific Northwest winters rain a lot of debris onto property, but his back patio was without an item on it. His grass appeared to be trimmed by elves hourly.

He examined my father first. His lips curled in disgust. Peabo had a bone spur protruding. Apparently DENTISTS often leave such things in when they crush the teeth (Do say this in a heavy Swiss accent. Do have a manicured beard that matches your lawn.). I started laughing uncontrollably at the dentist diatribe and my father's evident love for said tooth engineer. He next examined my mouth and proclaimed it perfect. This was another opportunity for jibes at dentists.

"A dentist would put expensive caps on your teeth ... Caps made in China, most likely."

"With cadmium in them. Probably."

No, no he would not do that. A little space is healthy.

He tried to find a photographic example of what dentists would do. He methodically paged through five magazines while we waited. No example suited him.

"I have enough time to go through all of these. I haff not found just the right picture yet," he said very calmly.

"No, no, that's fine!" I said leaping toward the door. By this time, even Peabo was following me.