I lived to tell the tale (again)
Mar. 26th, 2010 04:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyHappy birthday to me. I treated myself to a wisdom tooth. The dentist showed me my hideous, leering x-ray, and said, 'I always rub my hands with glee when I see an x-ray as beautiful as that. This will be the easiest extraction I ever do.' The eye of the beholder, I suppose. Anyway, he was right and I was out in fifteen minutes, minus one tooth. The initial check-up took longer than that. I am even a little disappointed that it wasn't at least a bit more traumatic so I could get a good war story out of it. But I will shoulder my disappointment and struggle gamely on.
I kept all my baby teeth for years. I reclaimed them from the tooth fairy with ideas of threading them on string and making a cannibal necklace, but, oddly enough, my mother wasn't keen on her seven-year-old daughter trotting about in a necklace of her own teeth and refused to help me with this craft project. In the end I kept them in a little velvet pouch at the bottom of my jewellery box until I opened it a couple of years ago to find they'd all cracked and broken into tiny pieces. Teeth are perishable. Who knew?
Because I didn't think my mouth would be in any state to eat birthday cake today, I had the family birthday celebrations last night. My mother made a chocolate ripple cake, which was delightful. I haven't had one of them for years. She decorated it like a sausage dog, with a face made of Smarties and whiskers and a tail made of musk sticks. Very cute. The colour from the Smartie eyes bled in the cream, making it look like its red mascara was running. 'Look,' said my mother, 'it's crying tears of blood. Happy birthday!' That's not a sentiment you hear every day.
Also, in case you've been waiting on tenterhooks, that weather man portrait didn't win the Archibald prize. The winner was a more conventional one of Tim Minchin.
I kept all my baby teeth for years. I reclaimed them from the tooth fairy with ideas of threading them on string and making a cannibal necklace, but, oddly enough, my mother wasn't keen on her seven-year-old daughter trotting about in a necklace of her own teeth and refused to help me with this craft project. In the end I kept them in a little velvet pouch at the bottom of my jewellery box until I opened it a couple of years ago to find they'd all cracked and broken into tiny pieces. Teeth are perishable. Who knew?
Because I didn't think my mouth would be in any state to eat birthday cake today, I had the family birthday celebrations last night. My mother made a chocolate ripple cake, which was delightful. I haven't had one of them for years. She decorated it like a sausage dog, with a face made of Smarties and whiskers and a tail made of musk sticks. Very cute. The colour from the Smartie eyes bled in the cream, making it look like its red mascara was running. 'Look,' said my mother, 'it's crying tears of blood. Happy birthday!' That's not a sentiment you hear every day.
Also, in case you've been waiting on tenterhooks, that weather man portrait didn't win the Archibald prize. The winner was a more conventional one of Tim Minchin.