My tooth fell out. We were eating dinner on Johns birthday eve having an in depth discush about crowns and teeth. I touched my temporary crown with my tongue and it fell out. I wigged and called the office manager at the dentist who happens to date my cousin (lesbians be cray cray ya'll) and she said no biggie. Yeah it was kind of a biggie, I mean my tooth fell out. 8:34 am the next morning she called my office to tell me Dr. Drill-hole said I had to come get it put back. Damn it. They had my new shiny permanent tooth there so at least they didn't have to put the old gross fakey on. It wasn't so bad, other than the tiny hand saw (I shit you not) that the hygienist used to SAW the cement out from between my teeth. Who comes up with this shit? What medical proffesional thinks hmmmm, we should make a TINY HAND SAW to get cement out of teeth? What idiots. So I got to lay there and watch a hour of HGTV while waiting on them to get this thing in and its good. All I can think about is Monday. The remaining half of my face will be drilled out while I am in and out of consciousness and then I get to drive (haha they let me drive after this) to face my child who will run screaming from me then reenact my face thinking I'm being silly. Then I'll drink several a bottle of wine (you know, cause my mouth hurts). This is PSA number dos. Go to the dentist. I may be back to tell about our Easter weekend, maybe not. Consists of one HELL of a hangover so its kind of important.