The Dentist's Yoghurt

Dental hygienist Dr Stewart was highly strung. Few would think that dealing with teeth, which neither bleed nor unexpectedly multiply during operations, would be so stressful, but it long has been rumoured that dentists have a very high suicide rate. However, it was not issues with overcrowding, plaque, or crowns that so bothered Stewart today. No, what he was more irate about was that someone had nicked his lunchtime yoghurt.

This meant his assistant, Cat, now had the incredibly difficult job of trying to calm the good doctor down. After all, his patients would hardly want him this wound up during their extractions.

‘Maybe you just forgot to take one this morning’, she offered, hoping this explanation would placate him. It did not.

‘Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve been working at this surgery for eight years, and in those eight years, every single day I’ve brought a yoghurt from home for lunch. It’s no longer a question of remembering for me, it’s now a matter of routine.’

‘Well, maybe you should change the routine. Shake things up a bit. Have a peach.’‘HAVE A – Cat, are you listening to yourself? Having a yoghurt every day is hardly a destructive habit. It’s not like I’m having an hourly dose of crack, or swallowing fire for a living, it’s just a little snack I’ve had in my lunchbox since I was five, and, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to maintain that tradition.’

‘Fine. Whatever. Keep having your yoghurt.'

‘Well, I can’t, can I? Why? Because somebody’s taken it!’

‘Look, do you want me to get you another one?’

‘What?’

‘The corner shop down the street. I could go there and buy you a new yoghurt. Would that make you happy?’

‘Yes. Yes, it would. Thank you, Cat.’

‘You’re welcome. I’ll see you in ten minutes.’

With Cat gone, Dr Stewart calls in his next patient. In walks a mother and her little boy, Sammy. Sammy is eating a yoghurt. The dentist looks at his suspiciously whilst his mother gets in the chair.

‘Wh – Where’d Sammy get that, Mrs Allen?’

She looks, then waves her hand dismissively.

‘What, the yoghurt? It was just lying around in the waiting room, and I said if nobody claimed it in twenty minutes, he could have it.’

‘I see… What did you say you’re in for again?’

‘Oh, just a routine clean. Nothing special.’

‘Ah, very well.’

Dr Stewart smiles, lowers the chair, and reaches for his pliers. This is definitely one cleaning that is going to hurt. To be fair to him though, she did deprive him of his yoghurt.