I was going to write a post in response to today’s one-word prompt, “cavity,” with a snarky post about how Trump supporters have a cavity in their heads where their brains should be.
Or perhaps how Donald Trump, his GOP enablers in Congress, his big business cronies, and his Russian backers have a cavity in their chests where their hearts should be.
But then I thought better of it because, well, I have good teeth. The last time I had a cavity was when I was ten years old. And I’m now quite a bit older than ten.
I did have to wear braces during my teen years. And because I inherited relatively large teeth from my father and a relatively small jaw, courtesy of my mother, I had to have four teeth extracted in order to get my large teeth to properly align in my small mouth.
Unlike most people I know, I don’t mind going to the dentist. During my twice yearly visits, the dental hygienist scrapes the accumulated plaque from my teeth and shines them up. Easy peasy and relatively painless.
Then the actual dentist comes in, checks everything out, tells me it all looks good, and then complains that he’s not making any money off of my mouth.
I bet he voted for Trump.