Scott and I have been dropping a lot of cash on our teeth as of late.
I’m due to replace both of the crowns on my back molars, which have been in place for twelve years. In order to maximize my dental insurance coverage, I’m only replacing one per year–but will still be paying over a grand out of pocket for each procedure. While I keep trying to put this unpleasant experience off, my dentist kindly reminds me that my right crown fell off five years ago, and is currently held in place with nothing but glue. (I didn’t have dental insurance at the time and was able convince a local dentist to glue it back on, praying it would hold. It has…but I think I’ve tempted dental fate long enough.)
So, phase one of that little party will be going down on Monday. I’ve been told it can take upwards of two and a half hours.
Then there’s Scott. Inspired by Tom’s Cruise awkward endeavor of 2002, he’s getting braces this Thursday. Add another $1,300 to the ever growing oral health tab–and that’s just the down-payment. The silver lining? At least we’ll get a few funny pictures out of the deal. (I may or may not be cooking up a braces-themed Christmas card.)
And let’s not forget the girls. One of the downsides of owning small dogs is that they have terrible, terrible teeth. Jolie’s already had eight pulled. Both girls are long overdue for a cleaning, which will undoubtedly require anesthesia on account of their fear-induced squirliness. I’m sure the vet will also find a petrified piece of underwear back there or something, which will probably set us back an additional several hundred dollars. There goes Scott’s Christmas bonus!
As if these three expenses weren’t enough of a hit to our wallet, this happened on Wednesday:
Where do I even begin?
It was approximately 3:00, and Jolie and Penny needed to be taken outside for a bathroom break. While I typically allow them to roam leash-free in the yard, I had spotted a bald eagle earlier in the day and didn’t want one of them to get snatched up. Leashes and harnesses it was.
Being that I was in the midst of a heated game of Words With Friends, my iPhone had to come with as well. Picture two leashes with wriggling dogs who are surprisingly strong for their size and a smartphone in only two hands.
And then, it happened.
I noticed my shoe was untied. Under normal circumstances I would have set the leashes down, but our neighbor’s hunting dogs were out, and both of the girls were ready to rumble. I suppose I could have rested the phone gently on the grass…but it was damp, and I didn’t want to risk losing my phone to water damage…again.
Yeah…I have a history with this sort of thing.
But back to last Wednesday. In a pathetic attempt to juggle all of my belongings, I shoved both leashes into the crook of my armpit, held the phone between my teeth, and bent down to fasten my shoelace. As I stood up to collect myself, the phone fell from my mouth, face down into the grass. When I picked it up, this is what I saw:
The iPhone couldn’t have fallen more than a foot and a half…and the patch of grass it landed on was free of any sharp, or even slightly hard objects. The only logical explanation?
My teeth are so incredibly strong, they cracked the screen due to their bionic strength and supernatural sharpness.
In other words, I have to buy a new phone tomorrow.
(And no…it won’t be covered under dental insurance. I already checked.)
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