Today I visited my dentist to have a tooth “Extracted.”
To tell you the truth, I’d much rather have heard my dentist tell me that he’s going to pull my tooth.
Instead, he says, “Mr. Thomas, we’re going to ‘extract’ that tooth today.”
I looked at the tools on the tray, and I saw “The Tool” sitting on the tray.
No matter how “Medical” they try to make that one particular tool; It’s still apparent that it’s a pair of pliers. And he’s gonna use it to “Extract” my tooth.
After getting the left side of my head numbed, my dentist began the procedure of extracting my farthest back bottom tooth.
He picked “The Tool” up, and I closed my eyes.
It’s easier to tell you that I closed my eyes than it is for me to tell you that I passed out…
“You’re going to feel a little pressure. That’s normal. What I need to prepare you for is the “Cracking” sound. You’re gonna hear a cracking sound. It’s normal, too.”
I felt pressure and heard grunting. I half expected my dentist to start cussing like someone working on their furnace…
Then, I heard cracking.
“Ahh, there we go. Got it.”
“Don’t lose the crown,” I shout.
Actually, I shouted, “Don’t oos my gowd! I want my gowd!”
I got home. —My mouth full of gauze.
I showed my niece my treasure.
“This is older than you,” I tell her.
“Sounds like ya got a little lisp, too,” she says back.
And I show her my treasure. My “Gowd.” —Pictured below.