I have bad teeth. Actually, bad is an understatement. I have horrifically horrible are-you-sure-your-not-a-drug-addict teeth.
I have had countless cavities, abscesses, and root-canals. I’ve chipped, broken and cracked many. I’ve had or have braces, retainers and bridges. I have more porcelain in my mouth than you grandma has in her cabinet, minus the floral pattern.
I know more about teeth and mouth anatomy than most dental hygienists. Hands down. Because, quite simply, I’ve been there and done that. Numerous times.
In fact – just yesterday I feel asleep while having a root canal. Not just once. I fell asleep 3 times.
It just doesn’t faze me anymore.
And as you can imagine, the dentist loves me. Each time I walk into the office you can actually hear the sound of a cash register go cha-ching and that fuckin Trump Apprentice song “Money” come over the speakers.
Before you start judging… I am a clean person. I floss twice a day, brush 3x a day and seriously take damn good care of these pearly whites.
I have the unfortunate pass-me-down hereditary of bad teeth.
My father had dentures. My mother full implants.
Some people get passed down trust funds, cars, and heirlooms.
I get passed down a smile that has cost me the equivalent of 3 Mercedes.
My ride is better than yours, bitch. Mines in my mouth.
Truthfully, I wish I would have gotten implants 20 years ago. Life would be easier.
In staring at little Johnny’s pearly whites that are starting to poke through I can’t help to think about the shit that he’s going to endure because he’ll be inheriting my crummy teeth.
The poor kid. Years of drilling, pain, and dental chair visits awaits. And a possible obsession of Novocaine.
As I was thinking about all this I had a realization. Mommy and Daddy has to pay for it until he’s 18.
We’re gonna need to take second jobs just to pay his dental bill.
Maybe we should just pull out all the teeth, go straight to implants, and have the tooth fairy bring him a Mercedes instead. Would be cheaper right?
And then for Christmas - Novocaine.