Why I became a dentist

In this chapter it would be expected to have a story which is serious and profound, dating back to at least three generations, to demonstrate my commitment to the profession. My story is shorter. Like the vast majority of dentists, I was once a kid, so I collected everything that moved. But much to my parents delight, especially things that didn’t move. I was mostly proud of the sticker collection on the wall of my room. Those who are insolently young do not know that wallpapers have not always been classy, sometimes even landscapes were stuck on the wall. In my case the enemy was an ugly picture of nine square meters of some autumn forest, which I wanted to colonise with my little self-adhesive friends and it seemed we’d be winning. Then my parents took me to the dentist – it certainly was not the first time they did so, but this one was a memorable one. At the end of the check-up I realised that this is the best job in the world, because the dentist, who I remember as a lovely bogeyman in a mask, took out a pile of stickers from the closet, and I could choose one. ONE! I already had a relatively pragmatic thinking even back then, and drew the consequences: if I’m a dentist, I do not have to choose from stickers, but I will have them all. ALL! Well, that’s it. That is why I became a dentist. Of course, a good high school and the Latin language which I learned there, also helped a lot, and that my mom would have preferred to see me as a lawyer, so I had to… but the main reason… well, it was the stickers.