So I bet y’all think that Chez PM is a never-ending carousel of cool concerts and surfing and lazy brunches and hikes and indie movies and [insert superfun thing here]. Well, those things do happen. But we also experience this little thing called reality. And, in the interest of making sure that this little corner of the interwebs isn’t merely my highlight reel – guess what I did this last weekend?

Rose City Comic Con?

Nope. It looked cool, though.

Start your blacksmithing apprenticeship?

Nope. The Girl did, though.

Go to the church fall kick-off and start the fun Sunday School classes and meet the new youth pastor and enjoy potluck and chatting and watching The Boy get a pie in the face during the games?

Nope. That would be the entire family but me.

Well, what on earth did you do then?

This.

Oh yes, I got to have dental surgery!

OMG. There must be a backstory to this…

Indeed. It actually all started three years ago. In Trafalgar Square in London of all places.

(Actually it probably started a bit earlier than that. I do love my parents somethin’ good, but alas, they gave me some fairly crappy teeth. Nine fillings by age nine, yo!)

So one of said fillings had been turned into a crown some years back and then in London we hit a candy shop (you can see The Girl with her lollipop) and I bought toffee (because I WAS IN LONDON! IT’S A REQUIREMENT!) and we were walking and touristing and suddenly I felt a weird pop and holy guacamole there was a TOOTH stuck in my toffee. (Well, more accurately, a crown.)

Inwardly freaking out (OMG I AM VERY FAR FROM HOME AND IT’S ONLY THE BEGINNING OF OUR VACATION AND IS THERE A DENTIST BESIDE THE BRITISH LIBRARY) but outwardly very calm (because Mom), I casually took said crown and popped it back on.

And there it stayed, thank goodness! And we made it through the vacation without having to hit up the Canadian embassy (seen in the background – don’t you love that it’s right there?) for a dentist.

(Aside: Do you think you need to go through the embassy for a dentist abroad? I feel like I would want to – maybe there’s a Commonwealth discount!)

Anywho, at my post-vacation crown re-cementing there were warnings about “not a whole lotta tooth left underneath” (hola mom and dad!) and that this was probably a stop-gap and blah blah “next step is surgery” blah blah “not sure if this will work….”

In retrospect, probably amazing that it was fine for two and half years after all that. But alas, the reckoning came and the intermittent pain I’ve been trying to ignore since Christmas became un-ignorable and I found myself in that blasted chair yet again.

Shout out to “happy pills” and laughing gas – I hardly remember the surgery itself! And MASSIVE accolades to The Husband who drove my high-as-a-kite self  home, put me to bed, and went out to buy soup and fill prescriptions. I spent the weekend on strong antibiotics and pain pills (which I’ve since discontinued because they’re those crazy addictive ones and I feel like this tooth has cost me enough without adding “opioid addiction” to my life).

And a shout out to my kiddos who were very kind and prayed for me and kept coming into see how I was doing. And especially The Boy who made it a whole 24 hours before asking, “when are you going to make dinner? When are you going to clean the kitchen? When are you going to be a mom again?”

So, it’s not all rainbows and unicorns over here all the time. Sometimes it’s penicillin and lentil soup and chipmunk cheeks. But no toffee. Never toffee.

(And don’t worry – this isn’t the last you’ll hear about my teeth! Watch this space for our next episodes entitled “Here, Wear This Retainer 22 Hours A Day So Your Gap Tooth Stays Gappy” and “Adventures in Implants: You’re Gonna Drill a Screw Into My JawBone?!”)

[PS. Thank you Jesus for dental insurance and oral sedation and dentists who soothe you when you say “I’m terrified” and husbands who heat up split pea soup Amen.]