is my two front teeth. Er, one tooth—in the front. Not quite “front tooth,” as it’s lower front and thus shielded by the uppers.
And no, this isn’t another semi-lucid rant on avaricious requests. Christmas is (in the words of a certain female high-school junior) ‘like, so over.’
Today, the annoying little tooth that protrudes apelike from my jaw—that little bit of ivory that tends to become decapitated any night I go into cold sweats—has been re-capped.
My dentist ground it away into an angular nub (more of a nub, that is) before building it up again with a mixture of ‘A1’ and ‘A2’ (two shades of tooth-rebuild stuff, one too light and one too dark) that was gradually hardened by UV (I think) light.
I don’t think the tooth-guru was entirely happy with the job he did, actually. It wasn’t his fault, it’s just that my mouth is so messed up that a perfect tooth impedes function rather than aiding it. Trust me, the initial tooth he built was perfect in every way other than being mismatched with my collection of pearly blunders I refer to as a jaw. He had to whittle it down to something that he was regretful of… But looking in the mirror, I say it’s a great job.
He is a true artist of the profession.
My tongue is still getting used to the intruder’s presence. Actually, at first I was afraid it would never get used to it, but three hours later I had managed to make them kiss and make up to some extent. (um… )
I have so far successfully and painlessly eaten several chocolate-chip cookies and one of my trademark pickles-and-jalepeños-only burgers. Not to mention some Perrier under the bridge tonight.
Though I seem to recall the dentist saying something about hoping the tooth lasted the night…
Ah, well, I’m optimistic. And I’ve decided to work on sleeping more peacefully. Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts…