I feel a bit like a new woman...

...and it really only took weeks of discomfort and about 200 bucks. :)

Let's begin...
I broke a tooth back in May during an incident at the Lab School playground. In attempting to save a three-year-old girl from a potentially socially-scarring moment of exclusion, I hauled tooshie up a metal rung ladder to sit beside her. What I didn't take into account was the large metal bar that ran well above the heads of little ones, but just in range of my own noggin. I still wish I could see what sweet Eva saw when my forehead made contact with that not-so-precious metal. In my mind it looked similar to a scene from the cartoon network when a dimwitted weasel gets nailed to the ground by an outrageously large hammer, stammers to the side with his eyes buggin' (yes, I said buggin') out of his head and swirling about, the birdies fly over him chirping their lovely song, and then he shakes himself off, gives a smile, and goes on his way. Yes, I do believe that's what it must have looked like. Except this human had a headache and jaw pain for over a week.

So, I hit my head, smacked my teeth together, knocked out part of a filling and broke a molar.

Three months later of convincing insurance to pay for my accident, and I'm sitting in a dentist's chair discussing whether my new tooth should be straight-up gold or if a little bling was in order. Oh, and I'm not kidding. My dentist is awesome.

I wore a temporary, plastic, gummy tooth for just two weeks. I have very little "real" tooth left, but no bother. See, I had this one pickled yellow tooth that I'm told must have formed at a time in my life when I was sick. Sometimes, that happens. And innocent people are stuck with pickled, ugly teeth. The rest of my pearly whites said, "adios, nasty!" and I laid back to let the doctor take out the ugly.

Two weeks of popping Tylenol and anti-inflammatories (this tooth was angry due its rejection), I have a brand new chomper that the rest of my mouth couldn't be prouder to welcome to the family. Though there was talk of it for a little while, it looks like I managed to get away without a root canal (I was not excited about taking that to insurance...medical accident coverage, please?). Having that in the same month John had his wisdom teeth removed (Two dry sockets...Go, John!), would have made for too many milkshakes in too short of time.

If you look back at my title, I hope you notice the pun...Dad, that's for you.

And folks, if I start telling you about my tooth, just smile. Your teeth will want to see what I'm talking about.