Teeths
On Saturday we went to some friends house for about the most delicious meal one could ever hope for.
Mmmmmmmm.
Give me a moment while I remember it
mmmmmmmmmmmmmm
all sorts of goodness including asparagus with yuuuuummmmy anchovies, and lamb, and vege tart and olives and lentils yummmm all with a hearty chaser of mandarin tart. Don't even get me started on the wines. Delicious. Sileni sticky, Villa Maria Pinot (2003 I believe).
We were joined by very goodlooking and talented people, one of whom is my dentist. I haven't seen him on a professional level since 5 years ago. I'm busy people! I've had babies, and you know, been busy. I told him that I had a new theory about teeth which involves going to see him when they hurt. He told me I'd need a root canal.
Just quietly, in my own head, I smugly thought about all that good fluoride I'd had as a child to make my teeth strong and white.
But now my teeth are hurting.
And actually, I grew up in Christchurch where there is no damn fluoride in the damn water.
Foiled.
3 comments:
The dentist slipped something into your tart obviously.
Go to a different dentist, then he'll never know.
I think it would be a bit weird to socialise with your dentist - ditto with your doctor. They KNOW things about you! At least he hasn't seen inside your mouth for 5 years. Should be a distant memory, we would hope.
your doctor across the dining table... now that's a horrid thought!
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