“The trick is to breathe through your nose,”the dental assistant advised me as I bit down on the molding. “And if you start feeling nauseous, try lifting your arms.” And avoid throwing up in your mouth, I wanted to add but, of course, I was unable to do so what with the fact that my jaw was effectively sealed shut. After a couple of minutes, she wrestled the plastic mold from my teeth and proclaimed this session “Almost done.” Almost? I’d been in the chair for close to two hours being poked, prodded, and drilled. “I’m just going to pop out and feed the meter,”I told her, moving to get up. “This’ll only take a couple of minutes,”she informed me. I eased back into my seat and waited. And, true to her word, a couple of minutes later I was done. Just in time to stroll out to my car and pick up the $30 ticket sitting on my windshield.
I returned to work, my mouth still frozen from the anesthetic. I could barely talk, much less manage a sip of water. If our office assistant Lawren hadn’t been kind enough to chew my food for me, I probably would‘ve had to skip lunch. I was like the Joker from that first crappy Batman movie, ghoulishly expressionless. And, to be perfectly honest, I kind of liked it.
Well, it turns out today is my wedding anniversary. That’s May 23rd and not March 23rd as I’d previously assumed. I, of course, can be excused for making such a simple mistake because I‘m a busy guy, but shame on any of you who forgot that Fondy and I were married exactly eight (or nine) years ago today. We’ll be celebrating tonight by going to dinner at the award-winning Bishops after which we’ll head back home for a nice romantic evening of port, dessert, and the second half of that Terry Pratchett book I’m reading.
The mailbag will return tomorrow at its regularly scheduled time. To tide you over, how about some pics: fan chocolates from New Zealand, Don Davis appreciates some fine dark chocolate, setting up a sparring sequence.
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