I know that none of you would disagree that I need a crown--nice shiny, sparkley crown. Today the dentist decided I need another kind of crown. One for my #18--for those of us not acquainted with dental numerology, it's the back left bottom tooth.
Some of you may know, I don't have the greatest teeth. They're straight, but I've had fillings in most of them--even the back of my two top front teeth, that's a painful shot of novicane. Anyway, this back tooth had a filling that was normal sized. Then during the Easter season of 1997, I ate an egg-shaped jaw breaker. It didn't break my jaw, but it did chip some of the tooth away from the filling. So, I had the original filling drilled out and an even bigger on added.
Today I went to the dentist for my six-month cleaning. No cavities; that's good. But an x-ray revealed tooth decay beneath the monolithic silver filling. So, now I need a crown. The process doesn't sound fun. Maybe Dave can scrape together a few dollars to buy a tiara for me after the crown. Luckily, the holidays are upon us. Just like Scarlet, I'll worry about this later. Did Scarlet have a tiara? I know she had Tara . . .
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