The email started with:

You should now be free of pain, and back to normal.

It was from the dentist.

First of all, I have never been exactly normal.

And the pain?  Hey, I had that wisdom tooth for at least 40 years.

I need time for grieving.

“Remember to floss and brush your new crowns, at least twice a day.”

Or else?

Forget it.  I don’t want to know.

So, in a few days, I go back.

This time for another crown and a filling.

I really should get a throne, don’t you think?  To go along with all my crowns?

The strangest part of my treks to the dental office is that the original problem has yet to be addressed.

I lost a crown.

I found it on the floor.

I carried it in my pocket and when the dentist saw it, she immediately put on rubber gloves and a mask.

What the hell?

Anyway, it is back in my mouth.

However, I am not supposed to floss it.

Not supposed to eat anything near it.

Not supposed to disturb that precarious crown.

Meanwhile, the damn thing is super glued, while I get crowns everywhere else.

Do you know what it’s like not to eat a crisp apple?  A slice of pizza?  A bagel loaded with cream cheese?  An ear of sweet corn?  A can of cashews?

I stopped by the bar for a beer on the way home and it was wing night.  The people were chomping on those crispy wings, while I sipped a beer from a glass of ice, from a straw, not to disturb the royal crown.

For now, I am holding on to my title of queenie, and will be enjoying the royal duty of flossing my ass off, before heading to bed.

Until tomorrow,





One thought on “Long live the Queen.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s