Sunday, November 15, 2009

Friday the 13th: The Curse of the Tooth from Hell

I’m broken. M and I made the 2,5-hour drive to visit his parents on Friday. And now I’m hurting.

In the car on the way here my tooth broke. I was eating some candy (cause everyone knows you can’t drive for almost 3 hours without candy) and as I chewed on the candy I suddenly realized I was chewing on parts of my own tooth. Nothing makes candy taste bad like little pieces of tooth in it. I spit out the pieces of tooth and felt around a little with my tongue. Half of the tooth was gone and I was sitting there with all the insides of the tooth completely exposed. It didn’t feel great.

For some strange reason it feels like whenever we visit M’s parents all we do is eat all day long. Normally this wouldn’t bother me, but with half a tooth in my mouth, eating has proven a little bit tricky. I try to use the fork to stick the food as far into the other cheek as I possibly can, then I tilt my head to the side and try to make gravity help me keep the food away from the tooth from hell. I think M’s parents think I’ve lost my mind.

Add to that the fact that I apparently have a little bit of a relapse on my herniated disc and my back hurts as hell, which makes me walk around like Quasimodo, back hunched, head tilted to the side. I’m pretty sure the family wasn’t happy with the announcement that I’m moving in with M come January.

I have to cut this short now. Dinner is ready. Again. *

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