Devoured Bokkies vs Tom & Jerry

By Sue Trollip

I have a throbbing tooth. It’s hard to concentrate on anything else. It’s impossible to ignore. It’s not hot-cold or sweet-sour sensitive, it’s pounding painfully.I remember dentists semi-fondly from my childhood. An outing to Escourt was rather exciting. There they had two brand name supermarkets and a couple of clothes shops, whereas we only had one which always seemed to be a few seasons behind. Escourt had a hospital, the dentist and the drive in. It was a regular megalopolis.

If one person in our household needed to go to the dentist, we’d all have to go.  That was just the way it worked. We’d inevitably go shopping, then get a chocolate or milkshake to cheer us up before going to the dentist. When we arrived we’d head straight into his garden (he had his rooms next door to his house) we’d haul out our toothpaste and toothbrushes and brush away the offending sugar at the outside tap, then in we’d trot, minty-breathed and guilt free.

Now I have a fancy dentist. She takes x-rays which go straight from my mouth to her computer. She won’t do anything witPicturehout giving you a painkilling injection first and, most impressively, she has a flat screen TV bolted to the ceiling. If I may complain, I’ve been twice in the last four years and both times there was a ‘nature’ programme playing. I don’t like nature programmes when I’m relaxing on my couch. At the dentist there are needles, suctions and all sorts of gadgets in my mouth at the same time and I’m tense. Very tense. Then I have to watch a bokkie being devoured by a cheetah, nah.

I was rather excited when I went to a friend’s for dinner the other night and eight year old Chloe informed me that she gets to watch cartoons when she goes to the dentist. We have the same dentist.

I’m ready now. If the pain hasn’t gone by tomorrow I’m going to request Tom and Jerry. It’s similar to nature programmes except the victim pops back to life in a nanosecond


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