I've met the oral surgeon already. The last time I saw him, he was nice. Yet he clearly had no intention to stop cutting, stabbing, or using pliers on me because of this niceness.
This time, I intend to set clearer boundaries.
Communicating those boundaries could be difficult since the surgeon tends to appear after the pre-surgical prep show is over. A patient knows this show is over when your mouth has been stretched into odd shapes and a bite block has been inserted by a cranky nurse. A cranky nurse who has been bitten a few times, but still... an accomplice.
And that is unacceptable, because princesses love to be seen and heard.
Here is my plan: if that doctor irks me again, I will simply lean over from my reclining chair and squeeze his balls. Firmly. I'm going to squeeze his balls so firmly that he will NEVER forget my 12 year molars. Ever.
I believe this will level the playing field.
