There is no doubt—dental hygiene is of the utmost importance. Nevertheless, no one enjoys being poked and prodded on their semi-annual trips to the dentist.

Picture this: an unfamiliar face, slightly unidentifiable thanks to a mask and blinding work light hovering just above their head, is looming over you with sharp metal objects attempting to make conversation with you while slicing and dicing your gums. While marinating in your own blood, the most-dreaded rhetorical question is spoken through the paper-thin mask: “How often do you floss?”

Well, I’m glad you asked. But it seems as though you already know the answer, unless the blood spewing from my gums screams “healthy.” The significance of flossing is not completely unknown to me, but please, for the love of my beautiful teeth, have mercy. One would think after enduring a half-hour of torturous plaque-removal and choking on my own saliva, the dentist would spare me of more unnecessary discomfort. Alas, my tender gums could not handle the slightest exposure to air or sunlight without incredible sensations of throbbing and excruciating pain.

Tending to one’s teeth is a thoroughly nauseating experience packed with tiny mirrors that push your tongue farther down your throat, sounds of pointy objects colliding with your teeth and suction assistants that rarely do the job. Remember: an apple a day keeps the doctor away!