Daddy has been my dentist my whole life. And since I inherited his soft teeth, I've had a permanent reservation in his chair since the tender age of the beginning of all memory. Poor man. I can only imagine how unpleasant it was to see my teeth dissolve and disintegrate over the years.
Now that I'm a real grownup, taking responsibility for my inaction is a relief. I did NOT brush enough. All I did for decades is scrape the fur off my fangs. The price has been fully paid. There are 6 of my original teeth left. The remainder have their little caps hanging on for dear life. Cavity after cap which leads to root canal post and core...then the lovely extraction...bridge and then my current favorite..implant.
I even had the pleasure of said root canal post and core crown falling out of my skull whilst walking down the street in Argentina. I got to see the inside of a dentist office in Santa Fe.
So here I am. Post op. Sore and repentant. If it is any consolation to my parents, my new routine involves brushing twice a day with my Sonicare for the FULL 2 minutes and a good swisheroo with my waterpic. My gums are awesomely pink and happy. With a blessing I may be able to make the next 44 years much happier for me and my mouth.
Thanks for all the good memories Daddy-o.
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