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I had to go to the dentist today for the first steps in a new crown.
Not my idea of a fun morning.

My dentist is a very tiny woman who is quite good at what she does. (I think having tiny hands helps her get inside people’s mouths.) She does drive my crazy by always being late, but that (and a lot of money) is the price I pay for getting good dental work.

“Did you and your wife go on vacation this summer?” she asked. (20 minutes after we were scheduled to start…)
“We don’t do summer vacations,” I said.
“Really?” she asked. “You should at least do something on the weekends.”
“We do stuff on the weekends, just not vacation stuff.”
“Oh, what do you do?”

So, I told her.

“She is eating fire with my teeth?” she asked.
“Teeth you helped build,” I said. “They are still her teeth. Trust me, they are paid for.”
“She is setting fire to my handiwork?” she continued.
“Amongst other things, yes,” I said.
There was a pause.
“Well, now I can say the teeth I’ve built are fire tested,” she said.
I like my dentist.

She did a good job removing the upper remains of one of the 4 teeth I broken when drunk in 83. And, put a temp crown on it.

“Don’t set fire to the temp crown,” she said to me as she finished up.
“No worries,” I said. “She eats the fire, I just use flaming swords.”
Another pause.
“Keep those out of your mouth,” she said.
Good plan.