Weird Molars

Today I endured the dentist. And now I'm enjoying a beer (or two)... because going to the dentist is probably in my top five reasons life isn't always great. A few others would be giving birth, Walmart on a Saturday, and backne (that's acne on your back... in case you didn't know). Going to the dentist always induces sweaty pits, headache, ringing in the ears and feelings of exhaustion after a huge dump of adrenaline in my system. I kid you not. We're talking about sweaty palms and shaking hands. There is nothing fun about the dentist.

I should be fair... my dentist is the nicest guy. He's down to Earth and speaks openly with me about himself and his family. He's from the Northwest. And he tells me in advance when he's gonna jam both hands into the farthest corner of my mouth, resulting in "a little bit of discomfort." Hmm...at least he gave me a heads up. He also says things like: "you have weird molars." And: "Does it bother you that your teeth are so close together? I mean, how do you floss!?" Thanks buddy. Thanks for the authentic bluntness. To be fair... he did tell me I have "pretty teeth." Evidently they're weird, close together and pretty. That'll do.

My weird, close-together, pretty teeth!

Anyway... today's fillings (yes... multiple... thank you child-bearing years) resulted in a capped tooth. Oh gosh. There go my nerves. Not only am I thinking about him accidently drilling into my tongue, but now I'm thinking about the bank account. Great. There goes my idea of a new dress for this weekend (not that I was planning on buying a three-hundred and fifty dollar dress... but still). Mr. Nice Dentist did me a big favor by showing me my tooth after he had scraped all that goodness/plaque out and lemme just tell you... it's a good thing I have big molars! Ouch. Better cap that baby.

So... the beer tonight will calm my nerves, hopefully relieve some jaw discomfort (no jokes needed here folks) and perk up my pride a bit. I mean... I'm not less of a person just because I've had ten... TEN!... fillings in the last three weeks. I SWEAR I BRUSH MY TEETH! Stop judging me now... seriously. It's not my fault... it's my weird molars.