I managed to break a tooth at the weekend, a front tooth as well, so it was very visible. To be honest, as far as I was concerned it was so visible that people could spot it from the other side of the road. After a pleading ‘phone call to my very, very nice dentist yesterday, he managed to fit me in this afternoon, so I filled in the required forms for time off work, whilst apologising for lack of notice (in a rather lispy way – broken front teeth make you lithp).
Having by lunchtime today still not received permission to go and get painful injections and to have my mouth wedged open with metal clamps whilst someone asks me where I went on holiday and how the boys are doing, I popped through to the admin office, just to check that the bits of paperwork had made it to the right desk. “Oh yes”, she said, “That’s fine. Have fun!”.
And then, after I’d driven through fourteen sets of roadworks, found a parking space, had my tooth fixed by my very nice dentist (he said “We can rebuild you” and made me giggle at entirely the wrong time) and driven home because it was too late to go back to work, Handsome came home and told Mouse that I was lucky because I’d had the afternoon off.