Not missing a missing tooth

Dear rotten tooth,

Somewhere, somehow, you descended from the bad genes of some distant relative. If someday I have the chance in the great hereafter to find that relative, I’m going to have a few words with him about you. Except I’m not sure the words I have to say about you are allowed in the place I hope I’m heading. If I’m heading to the other place, I’m gonna let him have it.

Of course, you would be the one to know, since you will be wherever we are going to end up long before I will. I’m surprised getting a tooth pulled could be such a pleasant process, but hey, after what I’ve gone through with you, most pain can comparatively be called a pleasant process.

I’m not sure why you decided to stir up trouble after two root canals and a surgery. There was hardly any of you left to cause trouble. You causing me pain is equivalent to a 90-year-old being picked up for vandalism. But there you were, hurting like the dickens.

But I’m amazed just how big you actually were after coming out. I hope I didn’t offend you by yelling “That fit in my face?!” at you several times after arriving home from the dentist and unwrapping the “package.” It’s just that the last time I lost a tooth I was in eighth grade, and it was about the size of a sunflower seed. The tooth fairy gave me a quarter for that tooth. By weight, the tooth fairy now owes me $752.

But the tooth fairy isn’t going to get you. No, because you are capped with gold. I didn’t know that they used real gold to cap a tooth anymore, but they do, so that tooth is actually worth something. And here I thought you didn’t amount to anything.

My kids are a little sad to see you gone, but only because they loved playing “find the gold tooth in daddy’s mouth.” That’s another reason not to miss you. But don’t worry about them. There are plenty of other possible gold teeth in my future, and they will be playing the game again more sooner than later.

I don’t mean you any ill will, and I wasn’t thinking that time I used you to try and crack almond shells. Good luck wherever old teeth go, which I guess is the dump. I know I won’t miss you much.


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