‘Conversation’ with dentist, while patient’s mouth is full of metal implements.
Dentist: Our daughter-in-law Sandra’s from London you know. Good family, went to a frightfully good school…
Dentist: She has funny little ways sometimes, never ceases to surprise us.
Dentist: They came to stay the other weekend and she disappeared upstairs to freshen up and put some things in the spare room while we chatted to our son George and the children downstairs. Then we hear the phone ring. We didn’t hear it at first, as it’s out in the hall, and the children were being noisy, and my wife and I tend to shout at each other “will you take the call?” “No, you take it”, and so on. Finally I drew the short straw and got to the phone, and I hear a voice saying “Is George there?” I reply politely “Certainly, who’s speaking please?”, and hear the voice say “It’s Sandra”. “Sandra?” I say “What Sandra?” “You know, your daughter-in-law” she says, a trifle impatiently. “But you’re upstairs!” I protest rather stupidly. “Yes….”
Patient: Wa a heh? (What the hell)
Dentist: Open wider. That’s right. Well, George comes on the phone and says “Yes dear” and hangs up. It turns out she wants a softer pillow and wants George to bring one in from their car…
Patient: (Sounds of coughing and spluttering, necessitating a rinse with pink fluid)