On Overcoming Phobias

(In which my loving wife tries to reassure me as I leave for the hospital)

Cindy: "How about this? Would you rather get your blood drawn or go to the dentist?"

Me: "That's a mean question."

Cindy: "Well?"

Me: "All right. If it was just a tooth cleaning, then I guess . . . No, the dentist lasts longer."

Cindy: "See?"

Me: "Fine. I'd rather get my blood drawn than go to the dentist. There, I said it."

Cindy: "How about 'Yay! I'm getting my blood drawn!'"

Me: "Don't push it."