So you take a late lunch to go to the dentist.  You are being such a good boy and getting your teeth cleaned.

All is well, until the very last moment.  That moment, when the dentist stops in to look at your x-rays.  That moment when she pauses and says that you have a crack on the side of a tooth.  Dammit!  She has photographic proof, too.  That little piece of tooth would have to go.

Then the bonus question, “Do you have time today?” Does the Tooth Fairy have wings? (I assume so.)

I suck it up.  The saliva from having my mouth open for a half hour.  The “I promise to pay” sign-off sheet.  The need to take some flex time, because this is taking way longer than planned.  Yep, I suck it all up.

Then the drilling starts.  This is not so bad, until the dentist starts making progress on the sliver of tooth that has to go.  Then you feel something zoom across your mouth.  I am sure that tooth chunk is lodged somewhere in the dentist office wall.

A little grinding, a little polishing, and presto!  Repaired mouth!  Not bad for a lunch break.  No, I take it back.  That was a bad lunch break.