. . . dental floss!
Emiko was rough, I’m telling you – give someone a little bit of insight into a weakness and whoosh a professional dental staff (see last paragraph) goes for it all!
I do have the best dentist in the world. “Nice haircut,” Tom says, “What’s it called?” “Forty-five.” Then we cut him loose with the drill. Oh my. Yes yes we had targeted three of the front teeth with ancient fillings, all yellowing out and icky. He expanded to five just cuz he got on a roll. Rebecca was a great help. “We’ve got to reduce the signs of aging!”
Honest? I am not sure anything I do is going to fool the folks I’m going to meet during upcoming parliamentary adventures: they’ll peg me soon enough as from some other social class. (Which one could be an open question!)