We are not amused

My blog's had a makeover. It’s a minimalist look. I considered something flashy and over the top but it doesn’t seem quite right in these tough economic times.

No, I jest. It's simply because I'm a simple girl. I like white space, a hint of colour and a touch of glamour.

It seems Heidi, my dentist, has had a makeover too.

She took her makeover a little more seriously. She got a new nose, plumped up lips and much larger breasts.

She’s now morphed into Super Heidi with Lisa Rinna’s lips, Nicole Kidman’s nose, and by the look of things, numerous people’s breasts.

At 32, she‘s a plastic surgery junkie.

I help fund her lifestyle because she is an excellent dentist and provides great entertainment value. It’s like seeing a new dentist every time I visit. I never realised how much could happen to one body over a six month period.

I also don't mind sitting in the waiting room when she is running behind time because there's always a floor show of some description. Like today.

A couple rushed through the door and the male said to the Receptionist, “We have to see someone quickly. We need a tooth pulled in a hurry because we have to catch a plane in a few hours and are headed to Europe. We really don’t want to have to cancel our booking. Money isn’t a problem and we don’t need local anesthesia so that should make it easier”.

Heidi came out of her office and, overhearing the end of the conversation, said, “Well it’s going to be agony if you don’t have pain killers”.

“Oh, never mind the pain”, he said, “We just need to get it done before we get on a 22 hour fight later tonight.” “All I can say”, said Heidi, "is that you’re a very brave man. Do you want to come through and I’ll take a quick look at what the problem is.”

“Ok great”, the man enthused, turning to his wife, “you go through Tania and I’ll wait for you here.”

His wife followed Heidi into her office. We don't need a painkiller? Unbelievable.

The use of the royal ‘we’ reminds me of a colleague who was being taken to hospital as she was having a baby. In the midst of painful contractions she told her husband she was frightened. He squeezed her hand and asked with all seriousness. “Are you sure we want to go through with this?”

Like there was a choice. Two years later, she realised that she couldn’t go through with it after all. She divorced him.

That’s my day, how are we all then?