2010 has been the year of the dental and orthodontic procedure, to the extent that I am anticipating a flood of festive elves clad in white coats, bearing Christmas hampers in grateful recognition of the Ling family contribution to the dental coffers.
Husband topped off the year by having the type of dental operation where they bandy around words like “bone grafts”—the sound of which is quite enough to make my bottom hurt. Once again this involved major doses of Valium, both to get him to the chair, and to keep him there. Such is the power of modern dentistry (and strong drugs), that it went incredibly smoothly and I really don’t think he felt a thing.
I picked him up post-procedure, and was greeted by the sideways sway and enthusiastic smile, reminiscent of one staggering out of the rugby club Christmas party. Holding him firmly by the hand, I attempted to march him back to the car, but unfortunately he had other ideas. Impelled by goodness knows what (as it is generally the type of store he has an immediate aversion to), he shot (or more accurately, drunkenly meandered) past two security guards and into Tiffany’s. Once inside, he circled the store, pointing out diamond baubles that caught his fancy and inquiring whether I would like one. Never have I been so torn. I could see the potential to give Lady GaGa a run for her money on the diamond bling front, but I could also see divorce beckoning when Husband woke up from his Valium-induced haze to discover he was $50,000 poorer—but with a very happy wife. Sadly, my better nature triumphed, and I managed to coax him out. I am sure Tiffany’s is still pondering the security camera images of the coaxing process.