Hello. Do you have teeth? So do I.

Although, you may have answered “no” to that question, in which case I don’t feel remotely sorry for. You must be either a very undeveloped foetus, in which case you don’t need teeth you lucky thing, or someone who takes no care of their oral health and has spent their life gorging on sugar and chocolate and cakes and treacle and syrup, in which case it serves you right you greedy pig.

Joe Biden has teeth. They’re shiny and white, and not at all a portmanteau of those two adjectives.

Lots of other people have teeth which are shiny and white, too. There’s that guy over there, and her in the ugly raincoat, and that baby who’s knitting, and the man dressed up as a bee, to name just a few of the many shiny-toothed people on this planet.

Are my teeth shiny and white? Not really. They’re not the portmanteau either, thank goodness, but they’re a bit… dim.

My dentist seems to think that my teeth are the most wonderful enamel structures ever, though. He thinks the sun shines out of my bottom – well, my mouth (although not literally of course, because he’d have to take into consideration the fact that I might blind him, or melt stuff, if the sun was actually shining out of any part of my body. And he’s a clever man, who would understand that it would be impossible for the sun to be concealed between my buttocks – the sun’s even hotter than fish fingers fresh from the oven).

I find it hard to believe that my teeth are really so great, in spite of the clinician’s assurances of “well done, keep it up, sparkling gnashers mate”.

Maybe it’s because we pay him so much, and he feels this justifies inflating my ego to the point of bursting.

Honestly, the fees are extortionate. Extortionate. (Go and read that word a few more times. Not to emphasise it, but because I am so proud that I can spell it. Well, I can use my Firefox spell-checker.) We pay him so much that, even if the dental equipment were made out of foie gras, I would still think “phwoar, that’s a bit of a rip-off” on looking at the bill.

Of course, the dental equipment isn’t actually made of foie gras, and long may this be so. Foie gras is pure evil – to make foie gras, all those ducks and geese are force-fed Mars Bars until they are so fat that they resemble Eamonn Holmes and their spindly little legs cannot hold the gargantuan bodies up.

Also, foie gras would surely be a very ineffective material for making dental equipment. How dreadfully facetious of me to suggest that it might be what they might use – metal and plastic prevail, thank goodness. Though it means there is no need at all for us to be paying the man so much.

Anyway, I guess my yellow-looking teeth must still be healthy. It’s possible. Perhaps the yardstick has been tampered with, so to speak, by my experience of the unnaturally pearly white whiteness of the gnashers owned by the likes of Mr Bien.

Although when I brush my teeth, the teeth look like lumps of coal next to the milk-like foam. That can’t be right, can it?

Oh well.

I say, I haven’t even mentioned the elephant in the room. Yes, that’s right, there’s an elephant in the room?

Just kidding! Did you really think there was an elephant in the room? Idiot! There isn’t – I just mean there’s an obvious thing for me to discuss, which I haven’t yet mentioned. This thing is – brace yourself – I’m currently enduring the delights of having an orthodontic brace pushing my teeth in a certain position.

(Ha ha, did you see what I done there with the brace yourself thing?)

It’s OK. I don’t notice it. The best thing is that food sometimes gets stuck in there, so after I’ve eaten some food it’s like having it all over again. Brilliant. Incredibly entertaining on long car journeys – and, for that matter, on long journeys using all modes of transport. Apart from if you’re a horse, because the bit gets in the way. But I’m not a horse, am I? Nay, I amn’t.

So, teeth. I’ve covered that topic. What tomorrow? Lampshades?