Wisdom

Back when I was a senior in high school, so not that long ago... I had pericoronitis. Or, more commonly known, an infection near a wisdom tooth. The damn thing kept coming up and then going back down. It hurt like a son of a bitch.

So, my dad took me to the dentist.

The dental assistant said, "we see this all the time in kids your age. We'll clean it out and you'll go home with antibiotics."

The dentist walked in. Took a look and obviously feeling frisky said, "let's extract it."

Um... what... what about all my friends being knocked out? Given the good stuff... off school for days. Nope, not me. I had some quack who also happened to be a sadist.

After some novocaine and a few minutes to collect my thoughts he was digging in my jaw. I closed my eyes. Tightly. I could hear the frustration in his tone. When I got brave and opened my eyes, he was halfway in the dental chair. Using the arm of the chair and some crazy crowbar as leverage in an effort to loosen the tooth. That tooth wasn't budging. This is likely why 'normal' dentists don't do oral surgery in their offices. No matter, he just cut more gum out to free the poor little beast. Finally with a loud pop, a flood of blood, an exhale and the feeling of a big tool slamming into the roof of my mouth, it was free.

He rinsed my mouth out. Gave me some lecture about dry socket. (I was too stunned to listen.) I was on my way.

And then he set up an appointment for a month out to pull the other one. Thank God I only had two to start with.

My wisdom teeth were packed into a little yellow envelope. All my wisdom. Sealed up.

When I got home, I threw the envelope into a box.

You can probably tell where this is going...

So, the other day...

Now, I like things put away. Everything in it's place and all that. But, that doesn't mean I don't have some super random stuff in boxes around the house. Decorative boxes.

I came upon them. In their little yellow envelope.

I dumped them into my hand. They haven't really aged well.

"I suppose I should throw them away."

A glance. With the obvious look of, duh.

"I've had them forever. It feels weird to get rid of them."

The look on her face didn't change, "or, it could be said that it's weird that you still have them."

As much as I hate to say it, she's right.

They're gone. Which is a bummer because tonight as I sit here I thought of about ten horrifyingly funny things I could have done with them...

Bye guys.