I have no choice. The time has come and nothing can make me change my mind. I am breaking up with my dentist. Yes, the official dentist of the blankity blankhawks, who is the diva of all things molar, and who told me I have a low root-to-gum ratio which requires me to visit the office every four months. Yes, the very same dentist who left a wooden shim in my mouth.
The other day I was standing in an eternal line at the grocery store when I noticed a whole display of hot tamales (my favorite candy) on sale for a dollar a box. How could anyone say no to that? Don't ask me, because clearly I am not that person. I fell victim to the candy's excellent product placement and even better price point and bought myself a box. When I got back to my car, I had a fleeting thought of not tearing open the box immediately and waiting until I got home to enjoy my treat, but then I thought better of it and tore open the box immediately. Exercising some self-control, I poured a couple into my hand, even though my temptation was to just pour the whole box into my mouth. As I bit down on the first one, something strange happened: it pulled out a tooth. At least it seemed like a tooth. Suddenly there was a gaping hole in my grin, and something hard in my tamale.
Fortunately, it wasn't really a tooth, but it was a crown. The crown "doctor" had put in just a few short months ago. Some people might say, "LMNT, you're supposed to stay away from things like gum and sticky candies when you have dental work," but to those people I say, "pffffffffft." Fifteen years ago I had a crown installed from a dentist who is not the official dentist of the blankity blankhawsk. That's fifteen years of hot tamale eating and intermittent gum chewing, and never once has that puppy budged. But this new crown? Not so much. I've been stripped of my crown and I'm not blaming the tamale, or my affinity for chewy sugary treats; I'm blaming the dentist. But before I break up with her, I'm going to make sure she fixes this for free. And then I'm breaking up with her. Will I storm out of the office slamming the door in a righteous huff? Probably not, but I will be happy to tell her, "it's not me, it's you."
1 comment:
I am to blame for introducing the two of you. Had I known she would leave you toothless with a wooden shim in your mouth, I'd have kept silent.
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