Does anyone like going? The anxiety of wondering how bad my teeth have gotten, mixed with guilt for my part in their demise, compounded by the escalating cost makes it a day to be avoided as long as possible. Except that that makes it worse. 

This time I noticed that I am no longer needed when it comes to taking a little sip from a paper cup and spitting it out in the whirlpool sink. There were a squirter  and a vacuum to do it for me. Maybe I could just leave my teeth and wait in the lobby. Except that that is called dentures. Never mind. 

There are, however two things I like about my dentist. One is that he has identical twin daughters, so we chat about that. Next, he sings. With his knuckles between my lips, he trills along with the music which by the way does not qualify as Dentist Office music. It is much peppier than that label suggests. The tunes make me want to move too, which is always a bad idea when the hygienist has sharp implements poking your tender and indignant gums. 

When we were at our poorest, and without insurance, I took the kids to a dental college. The prices were rock bottom because we were in fact guinea pigs for students who might get a bad grade on the work they provided. Plus it took four times as long as an experienced professional. Which basically makes it equivalent to torture. 

My mind wandered to the symbiotic relationship between plovers and crocodiles. The bird serves as a hygienist for the croc, picking out bits of food from between his teeth. There is no charge. 

This reverie was dismantled when the hygienist actually said something positive to me. 

"I can tell you are flossing. Good work." What? I am not a complete loser? I doubled my resolve to keep at it. 

There are ways to get a check up on your relationship. Going out for coffee with another couple you respect can be helpful and not nearly as agonizing as having three tools scraping your back molars. Online assessments like Prepare/Enrich can give you feedback without the embarrassment of a stranger zooming in to breathe on your face.

You can pull all the stops and engage a relationship coach.  It will set you back less than a root canal, and might render the whole project of living under the same roof more pleasant. What's not to smile about that?