Shortly before I got pregnant with Caitlin I started seeing a new dental hygenist. At my first visit we discussed the standard safe conversation topics: work, marriage, kids, flossing. She was inquisitive about when the hubby and I were going to have kids and when I told her we were probably going to start trying to have a baby in the near future, a little light bulb went off in her brain and she started asking me questions about our baby making strategy (OK…not that specific). She wanted to know how we knew we were ready (like you’re ever truly ready to have kids!) She told me that she and her husband had been trying to get pregnant for several months. The conversation then rapidly crossed over the TMI line. She started telling me details of their baby making parts and what might or might not be wrong with them. There I was, a captive audience with no choice but to occasionally nod and mumble “Uh huh” while saliva dribbled from my mouth because she was oblivious to the fact that I needed spit siphoned out of my cheek pocket. By the time I left I knew more about her menstrual cycle than my own. I saw her again while I was pregnant and then after I had Caitlin. She was still trying to get pregnant. The last time I saw her she told me that she and her husband were splitting up. Although I truly felt sorry for her, the last thing I want to hear while I am having my tartar scraped is the state of someone else’s uterus. I began to dread each appointment. I wondered if she got this personal with all her patients or if she read something in the grooves of my teeth that led her to believe I was the pour your heart and soul out to type? Shortly thereafter a new dentist moved to the first floor of my office at work and I signed up as a new patient to have the convenience of getting my teeth cleaned on my lunch break without even leaving my building (and to also take advantage of their free custom teeth whitening kit offered to new patients). I love my new dental hygenist. After appropriate small talk, she gets down to brass tacks and cleans my teeth. There is no vagina monologue, and for that I am thankful.