I only saw you because I was acting on this bizarre realisation that I frequently have "hand spas" and "feet spas", but rarely make an effort to "spa" my teeth. You should have been proud of me.
But no. After 10 minutes, I decided that I'm sick of you all. I rarely see you and your fellow counterparts because I am fed up with your efforts to medicalise the tooth experience. Having teeth is not a disease, so why do you spend all your time worrying about tooth problems? I hate that you treat me like my teeth are a disaster waiting to happen. And then charge me over $100 even though my teeth and gums are perfect and hole-free. Are you penalising me for having no issues?
Oh, don't fret. I am conscious that as an extreme coffee drinker and garlic lover, who works in close contact with people, I need to have fresh breath and, as I detest chewing gum, I will brush my teeth. I also prefer the fuzz-free teeth experience. But I don't brush my teeth because I want you to sleep more easily at night. You will never sleep easy as long as you worry, fret, stress, agonise over the potential damage I and my children could cause to our teeth and gums if we foolishly or brazenly ingest sugar, or inexplicably start smoking.
Oh, and in case you are wondering, I am not concerned about my two-year-old sucking his thumb. I presume you are asking because you are concerned that his thumb might be filled with juice? I checked. It's not. I hope you will sleep a little easier, and therefore be less grumpy with your clients tomorrow, knowing that my child does not have juice-filled digits.
And what happened to the funky bumble bees you used to get after the murder house experience? Do you only give those to people who have pain inflected on them?
Your profession needs to work on the teeth spa experience before I return.