Day 73: Get Yourself Some Tim Tams

Before I left for Australia, my dentist and I had a little conversation while he filled my new cavity:

Dentist: So, you quit your job, eh? Any big plans?
Me: Huh. (“Yes, but I can’t say much because my mouth is busy.”)
Dentist: I bet you’ve got some big plans.
Me: Uh huh. (“Seriously, how am I supposed to answer you?”)
Dentist: Like what?
Me: Unh… Au-ha-ia. (“Australia.”)
Dentist: What?
Me: Au-haaa-ia. (“Australia.”)
Dentist: Australia! Wonderful! You know, I went there once. I came back with an extra 15 pounds and a bad rash.
Me: …Uh… (“…I am both sorry to hear that and afraid you’re going to tell me more.”)
Dentist: You know what you have to get while you’re there, right?
Me: Eeeh a hahh! (“Hopefully not a rash!”)
Dentist: What?
Me: …Uhh. (“…Nothing. I’m sorry I said that.”)
Dentist: Tim Tams! Get yourself some Tim Tams. They are delightful little cookies!
Me: Ah hoo ahiee, iigh? (“As soon as you fill my cavity, right?”)
Dentist: What?
Me: Ehh. (“Never mind. Also, my mouth is tired.”)
Dentist: Just don’t ruin this new filling. I’d feel pretty badly if I encouraged you to eat a bunch of cookies and then you came back here with more cavities. And try not to get a rash. It was awful.

Well, Dentist, I’m happy to report I continue to be rashless. And you were right; Tim Tams are delightful. I anticipate my “1 biscuit” = “5 cookies” translation might be slightly off, but I promise I will floss sometime between now and the next time I see you.

Tim Tams