|Why, yes, you are. Thanks for asking!|
You do not lose teeth randomly when you are an adult in most cases, unless you are on the receiving end of a punch from Manny Pacquiao, enjoy a delightful meth addiction, or are a middle-aged man who clearly should not have taken a bite of that 100 Grand bar. Today, I learned that lesson.
After taking a bite of the chewy caramel goodness that is the aforementioned bar, I felt that one of my upper teeth had a bit of caramel clinging on. A flick of the tongue did nothing so I thought a quick tap with my finger would do the trick. I know, probably TMI, but before you puke, this was done in the privacy of my home office. As I tapped, I felt the slightest give and before I knew it, I had two-thirds of my tooth in my hand. Not a bit of pain and no blood. Just most of my tooth. Don't believe me? See for yourself:
I was incredulous. Although alone in my home office, I blurted out, 'Holy crap! I'm Cletus, the slack jawed yokel!' Soon after, a raging headache set in. I cleared my calendar and called the dentist. When I explained my predicament, the receptionist sounded like she didn't believe me. 'Ma'am, I'm telling you, my tooth fell out. I'll text you a picture,' I said. She said that wasn't necessary and told me to come on in.
So a few hours later, I have some two-thirds of my tooth missing and an appointment for a root canal, which is only one phase of many to repair the tooth, on Monday. The dentist did some work on the tooth to 'clean it up,' in her words and get me ready for Monday's fiesta. I've been told that for the next few days, I'm to avoid crunchy foods (?) as well as bagels (?). So it looks like I'll be enjoying a nursing home diet of scrambled eggs and soup. This seems fitting, doesn't it?
On another note, we got an honest-to-goodness mailed letter from the missionary formerly known as The Boy today. It's been posted on his mission blog, Once Upon A Time In Mexico, if you want to take a look.