My husband, Chad, likes to brag about his teeth.
He faithfully goes to the dentist twice a year, and always returns home with a smug look on his face. He then regales me with stories about how the dental hygienist gushed about his wonderful brushing and flossing habits. She’s always so impressed with his toothy cleanliness.
I, on the other hand, do my best to avoid the dentist. I would be hard pressed to provide you with the date of the last time I engaged in a dental visit. And I blame it on the fact that I went to the dentist enough times in my first 20 years to last me a lifetime. By the time I was 10 years old, I’d broken off a front tooth (and subsequently acquired a lovely cosmetic cap on the remnants of said tooth), lost most of a molar to a piece of Bubblicious gum (and gained a crown on that tooth), and had more cavities than I like to think about.
Despite frequent brushing.
Shortly thereafter, I had to have an abscessed tooth pulled and a spacer put in its place, awaiting the adult tooth that would soon grow in.
As you can see, I have not been blessed with Good Teeth Genes. So as far as I’m concerned, I’d be happy to never see the dentist again. Even if you could guarantee me gushing compliments from a dental hygienist.
Today, however, Chad is feeling a little bit of my pain. He called me last week from his out-of-town trip to tell me that he’d been eating and suddenly a chunk of his tooth was gone. It was a tooth the dentist had been “keeping an eye on.” They knew it was slightly cracked and would have to be dealt with. But still, losing half of his tooth during lunch was not something Chad had been expecting.
So today — as I’m writing this post, in fact — Chad is visiting with (coincidentally) “Dr. Chad” to see what must be done. Will a crown suffice? Will a root canal be in order? I don’t know. Hopefully, they’ll remind him about what a good job he does brushing and flossing, in order to ease the pain of whatever procedures are being inflicted upon his mouth.
And I have a nice soft dinner planned. Tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.
Exactly what Dr. Katrina, the dental pain expert, recommends.












No root canal! I got away with the worlds largest filling.
Thanks Katrina, I appreciate the nice soft dinner.
Alas, no compliments on the teeth from Dr Chad or his assistant. Could it be that all those dental hygienists we just flirting? Silly girls, I have eyes only for my woman at Callapidderdays.
I think you and I might be dental twins. Ugh. I had one of those world’s-largest-fillings a few months ago and am NOT looking forward to the inevitable root canal. Many dental sympathies!
Ouch! Glad he didnt have to get a root canal. I think the dinner was just want the dentist ordered
Missed the Good Teeth gene myself…
Root Canal are two words I hope to never, ever hear again in my life!
Chad, you’re a lucky man, both because of your wife and because you didn’t have one!
cjh
I don’t go to the dentist either. Not because I’m scared, but because I’m lazy.
Goodness! One day that is going to happen to my husband. He will be happy because it isn’t broken enough for the dental insurance to cover, but a really broken one wouldn’t cost us nearly as much.