Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Was at the dentist yesterday. I never, ever like going there.
It was noted that I have a wobbly bottom tooth. (Their descriptive word, not mine.) I was not aware of its wobbliness since I don’t pick and push at it with a metal object. And, of course, now I am constantly touching it with my tongue to check for the wobble. This is not a good thing to be doing.
“You need a blah…blah…blah…wire.”
“You mean braces??!!” (All I heard was the word wire and wire = braces in my book)
“Oh, no, not really – just a wire.”
Not really my ass. (Or should I say my tooth?)
“And until you get the work done, don’t bite anything using that bottom tooth.”
Try eating without biting.
I’m now frantically trying to book an appointment with the orthodontist (this word also spells b-r-a-c-e-s to me) to whom I’ve been referred before I go away on holidays. What kind of vacation is it if you can’t bite? I can’t drink wine and coolers the entire time!
Obviously, I’m not too old for braces but I do NOT want a visit from the Tooth Fairy.