So, I’m about to get a wisdom tooth pulled, and I can honestly say I’m not anticipating it. However, I do know why these are called wisdom teeth. The last time I had one of these pulled, I had procrastinated so much it became infected. This sucked for two reasons: 1) my face was swollen (I still looked super hot, of course, and got many offers to make out. 2) The Novocain didn’t work and I remember screaming a lot (sure scared the 7 year old waiting to get his teeth cleaned). What makes these wisdom teeth worthy of their name, is that this time, when they started to become sensitive, I went to see the dentist and get it taken care of before it looked like I had a wad of dirty toilet paper in my cheek. I am becoming more wise indeed.
When I was on the phone with Alysa, a friend of mine from Florida about this upcoming removal she had some sage advice. Keep in mind, I don’t have much of a southern accent, except when I am super tired or especially drunk, but hers is heavy. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, because we grew up in the same town, only a few miles away from each other. It’s just one of those peculiar facets of Florida , possibly a product of all of the Northern people coming to Florida to die, vacation or sometimes both. Anyway, so she says in her southern debutante voice: “Yah need tah rub sum ol granddad on yer gumz to make it fil better. When I hayud mah root can’l done I rubb’d sum ol granddad on mah teeth and felt lotz bettuh.” Perhaps I wouldn’t have been so freaked out if I was from the ‘glades, where playing spank and tickle with your cousin is not only accepted, but expected. Once I stopped sputtering and making disgusted sounds, she explained that Ol Granddad was a type of bourbon, and it numbed her gums up.
Off I go, Ol Granddad on my gums, ready to have a tooth ripped out. I’m not looking forward to it, but when there is nitrous involved with me, hilarity usually ensues.