This morning at church, as I was rehearsing with the choir, one of my back teeth splintered. I was talking one minute; the next minute, I was spitting out pieces of enamel. All day long, my tongue has been rubbing against the jagged edges. I can taste blood.
Sorry to be so graphic. It's driving me crazy, though. I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight. I'm hoping that dentist will be able to squeeze me in tomorrow. I don't think I can deal with this situation for another day.
The reason this happened: I'm grinding my teeth at night. Every morning for the last few weeks, I've woken up with an aching jaw.
Three years ago, I broke the same tooth while eating Cheetos and watching American Idol. That's what today's episode of Classic Saint Marty is all about.
January 16, 2013: "American Idol" and a Broken Tooth
So, I'm sitting here, watching the first night of American Idol.
Keith Urban and Nicki Minaj and Mariah Carey and Randy Jackson. I was
stuffing my face with cheddar Combos and enjoying the parade of freaks
and tone-deaf wannabes. Then I stopped chewing for a minute and
realized that a piece of my back tooth was missing. That's right. I
have a jagged fang in the back of my mouth.
I was
having a good night. Now, I can't even concentrate on Nicki Minaj's
hair color. All I can do is worry my tooth nub with my tongue. With my
luck, the rest of my tooth will fall out while I'm asleep, and I'll
aspirate it and die.
Saint Marty is one step away from looking like a cast member from Deliverance.
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