Dear Wisdom Tooth,
Why are you referred to as a “Wise Tooth?”
Now with a title called “Wisdom” I have viewed you as being the Gandalf of my teeth, leading them carefully through the vigours of life, advising the fat little molars beside you when it’s safe to chew or when to chuck that lump of toffee over to the other side to deal with!
I would have viewed you as the fatherly tooth to those incisors, who like to pretend they’re stronger and more sharper than anyone else in there – well I guess they are sharper, sharp enough to look romantic in a sexy vampire movie – and old fat molar going for the neck probably wouldn’t look as good! However, I still rely on you as “the wisdom tooth” to keep them in line!
So if you are the Gandalf – the wise old tooth – why the fuck did you go in for the kill on Friday night with – lets face it – a small piece of “deep fried chilli beef” it was no where in the range of a tough old steak or one of “Nanny Beech’s hard butterscotch sweets – it was a soft bit of chilli beef from the Chinese Take-away – that I was so looking forward to after my crappy week 😳
You clearly didn’t assess the situation and just went in for the chew and – crunch – you are now fractured and broken 😳 and as a consequence you have cost me a weekend of acute pain, a visit to an emergency dentist, a course of antibiotics, I am doped up with pain killers and awaiting your removal.
Don’t think for one moment the tooth fairy will come for you!
Not very fucking wise now are you! 😜