A date with my teeth and Dr Banderas

I love going to the dentist with the same amount of passion as hating my trips to the dentist! The reason why I've become a dental schizophrenic is because I've got a crush on the Dentist. He's the dead stamp of Antonio Banderas. On top of that, he always smells of shower gel and aftershave and for me, a lovely smelling man is a massive turn on. Then he oozes charm. Not in an obvious, cocky way, but in an under-stated gorgeously delicious way. I just love his Mediterranean accent and his warmth. Also, I can't stop thinking about his big full lips and his brooding brown eyes. I don't think there's anything about this man that I don't love... apart from the fact that he's a dentist!

I need root canal work at the moment and I'm literally freaking out because it's being done in three 'painful' stages. As much as I love every moment I spend with Dr Banderas, I just hate everything about him fiddling around in my mouth. This morning, he was drilling and filing and hacking and plucking. Sadly, a single tear rolled down the side of my face and Dr Banderas wiped it away which instantly made me feel happy again.

Dr Banderas has no idea whatsoever that I have a crush on him and quite frankly if he did, I'd be mortified. I'd have to be seen by the other dental surgeon who I've christened Dr Ghandi because he's bald with round spectacles but Dr Ghandi smells of cheese & onion crisps and I don't like cheese & onion crisps!

Dr Banderas's nurse Naomi knows about my crush. Me and Naomi go to the same nail salon and when I go for a pedicure, I look pretty ordinary but when I go to the dentist, I'm fluffed and buffed and shiney and new like I'm about to be papped and sign autographs on the red carpet.