Mystery Solved

     My good hubby-buddy says he knows the secret of Mona Lisa’s smile; her teeth hurt.  Back to the dentist tomorrow.

     Thank you all for your support.  Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya


There’s A Reason For That Cheesy Grin

     Lookie… lookie up there.  You see that picture of the little red-haired girl in the Little Red Wagon at the top of this page?  That’s me.  You see how she is trying to smile, but her mouth is closed?  That’s on accounta’ her teeth are hurtin’… still.  She’s trying very hard to pretend it is not bothering her, but the Tooth Gremlins are working night and day to create as much havoc as possible.  So, Yaya sits in her Little Red Wagon, grinning and bearing it.  grrrrr

     On the UP-side, I am getting a little better each day… I think.  Its a funny thing about pain and misery, though.  After you reach a certain point, there seems to be nothing left to compare it to.  Soooooo, my good hubby-buddy (bless his heart) gets to be on the receiving end of my moans and groans.  He very pleasantly takes it all in stride… and takes SUCH good care of me.  I am soooo blessed..

     This too shall pass, though.  As I used to tell my little kiddo’s, “In 1,000 years, we’ll be able to look back on this moment and laugh.”  Ah, but time passes oh, so slowly when you’re watching water boil.  *grin*

     And how have you all been?  I’m so sorry I haven’t been ’round to visit much.  I do think about you and appreciate it so when you come to see me.  Your comments and prayers are extremely helpful.  Hopefully, I’ll be back on track before long and we can do some more visiting over the backyard fence or over a cuppa’ hot cocoa.  Thanks for your prayers and kind thoughts.

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya


De-Throning The Wicked Tooth Culprit or, How I Met My Sanity… I Hope!

     If this post sounds kinda’ strange, well… consider the source. Actually, I had a third tooth pulled and, believe it or not, things are lookin’ up. I do not think I am quite myself, but I’m pretty sure I can see me, somewhere in the distance. Please don’t give up on finding me; I’m sure I’m not too far away, now that the Wicked Tooth Culprit has been de-throned.

     I just got up from a long winter’s nap and I think I’m headed back there, again.  Thank you all for unnerstandin’ if I am babblin’.  I really think things will start feeling better, any day now.  The Saga of the Tooth continues, but at least it seems to be winding down a bit.  Given a little luck, within the next week or so, I will begin to make sense once again… or at least, as much sense as I ever did, ya’ think?
     Thank you so much for sticking around and cheering me on.  Your words are SO helpful.  Until the next time, keep a hug on.
 ~ Yaya


Tooth Cry Or Not Tooth Cry…

     Don’tcha’ just love it when you’re fifteen years old and everything in your world is going right?  You know what I mean; beauty, charm, lovely clothes, Every. Single. Person. You. Meet. wants to be your friend.  Isn’t that what life was like for you when you were fifteen years old?  Yeah, me too.  NOT!

     Now, lemme’ give you the real picture.  My two front teeth were still too large for my mouth… ever since about third grade.  Unless someone else fixed my hair, it looked like a glorious style created by a five year old, right after a particularly bad temper-fit.  I had recently managed a razor blade accident that left me with a huge, ugly bandage over my right eye and, to top it all off, I held the un-enviable position of Last Chair in the trumpet section of the band.  One of my passions was to play the trumpet professionally.

     Naturally, fifteen was the age when I was beginning to realize that no boy… most especially, THAT BOY… could EVER be interested in a Tomboy like me.  Did I mention that my two front teeth were too big for my mouth?  I’m not sure they ever would have settled down to looking normal.

     ‘Course, I never did hafta’ worry ’bout that on accounta’ THAT BOY.  {thump! thump! thump! went my beating heart, every time he walked by or looked in my direction}.  ‘Course, he was never unkind to anyone.  It wasn’t his fault that he had those looks.  And he couldn’t help it if he was so smart that his grades were off the charts.  And could he really be blamed for being able to play so many different intstruments?  No, none of that was his fault, but it sure didn’t make me feel any better about myself, either.

     So there I sat, in the last chair, silently drooling over admiring the best looking boy in school.  Since I did aspire to be a great trumpet player, I spent a great deal of time studying the workings and odd connections of music as they applied to the trumpet and me.  In doing so that day, I momentarily lost my love connection at the exact wrong instant and that would prove to change my life forever.

     I like to tell myself (although, even I know differently) that a magical career died when the best looking boy in school lost his balance and fell against the front of my trumpet, that day.  It might not have made any difference, except for the part where I was holding the trumpet in position and doing the finger-plays, just as though I were actually playing music.  Did I mention that the best looking boy in school weighed at least 150 pounds and I didn’t even come close to 100 pounds, soaking wet?  My front tooth never had a chance.

     Later, in the dentist’s chair, my tooth was so twisted that, after giving me an unbelievable amount of novacaine and gas, the dentist actually propped his foot up on the chair to try and twist it the rest of the way out of my mouth!  Imagine his shock when I screamed in pain.  Yup!  Even with bucket-loads of pain-killer, I felt that extraction just the same way that I am still feeling the results of my most recent difficulties.  And at fifteen years old, I was just overjoyed to be relieved of one of my front teeth.  In fact, I loved THAT little fact so much that I seriously considered going into permanent hibernation.

     Two weeks later, when I returned to school (remember; this is me… I heal V-E-E-E-R-Y slowly), I could only wish that the floor would open up and swallow me.  It was the most horrible day of my life.  That is, until the Best. Looking. Boy. In. School stopped by my desk and handed me a rose… and a card.

     Inside the card was a note, asking if he could walk me home from school.  Don’tcha’ just love it when you’re fifteen years old and everything in your world is going right?  Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya


A Toothy Grin

     I like to pretend I’m a writer.  Whatever others might think, I happily imagine that they feel the same as I do, “I’m glad she’s a writer.”  There are times in life when its kinder to go with the Little White Lie.

     So with that in mind, may I tap into the way a writer might think and give Title to our recent events?  Since it seems that The Tale of the Tooth is gonna’ be central in my thoughts until the pain goes away, I thought it would be fun to call it a Saga.  Whaddya’ think?  Are you up for following the continuing Saga of the Tooth?

     According to an online dictionary, a Saga is a narrative telling the adventures of a hero or a family.  This is your lucky day on accounta’ this Tale of the Tooth is about to expand to include some very interesting characters.  I truly hope you’ll stick around to enjoy them as much as I did.

     Let me begin with my dear father-in-law; we called him Grampa’.  I wish you could have known him.  What a dear, sweet man!  He lived with my good hubby-buddy and me for the last two to three years of his life and it was one of the most remarkable experiences I have ever enjoyed.

     But we were Saga-nating about teeth, weren’t we?  Let me share with you what a Trooper Grampa’ was.  Until he moved in with us, we were unaware of the difficulties he was having as a result of having very few teeth.  In fact, when we realized the problem, he only had three or four teeth, total.

     I honestly don’t know how he managed to eat any of the foods he did, but he never complained and, somehow, also kept his predicament hidden.  Then we were blessed to have him come and live with us.  What a Treasure!  How we all learned to love that man, even more than we already did!

     Very quickly, we made arrangements for Grampa’s difficulties to be remedied and Grampa’ was like a little kid at Christmas.  I shall always remember the joyful look on his face the first time he looked in the mirror, after getting his new teeth.  I don’t know how the dentist performed that miracle, but I will forever be greatful for medical miracles that can bring about so much happiness.  I really miss Grampa’, sometimes.

     And that’s today’s chapter of the Saga of the Tooth.  Let’s hope that you never have to suffer through another episode.

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya


One More For The Road!

     Don’t you just love it when Fun comes in multiples?  See, I only THOUGHT I was having fun before.  Now, where did I put the rules for the game of Eyeball Marbles?  Yeah, I’m really startin’ ta’ think I shoulda’ gone with THAT barrel of fun, instead of the one I’m using.

     You see these two teeth I had pulled the other day?  You see how much fun I’ve been having with them?  Well, that ain’t the half of it!  Today, I went back to the dentist on accounta’ just because the teeth are gone doesn’t necessarily mean that the pain goes away… ‘specially in my case.

     I seem to be one of those rare individuals (about as rare as hen’s teeth, evidently) who can still feel pain, even though my quotient of numbing solution would rival the winner’s intake at a chug-a-lug contest.

     To the Very. Last. Minute. in my dentist’s chair, I continued to feel intense pain.  Yaaaaay!  Now, don’t misunderstand; it is not… I repeat, NOT… the dentist’s fault.  I have a history of needing buckets of medication whenever I have anything done.  Today was no different.  I was the problem.

     I might add that I have never, EVER known a dentist who was soooo caring and so gentle.  I am very fortunate, indeed.  Still, my teeth are fighting it, tooth and nail, as it were.  Heh, heh.  Tooth and nail.  That was an accident, but it turned out to be a fun accident.  Heh, heh

     So now, I am experiencing more fun than I think any one person should have, in the way of pain.  Please forgive me for all my whining, but I cannot think of much else, besides pain and how to escape it.  Hopefully, I will soon return to writing about more normal subjects, like Creepy Little Crawlers, for instance.  Thanks for visiting and listening.  Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya


Am I Still Alive?

     Well, I was right.  I have definitely found one way that life is NOT fun.  Instead of having one tooth pulled, I had two pulled… one on each side of my jaw.  I think it would have been more fun if I had used my eyeballs in a rousing game of marbles.

     If you don’t know what I’m talking about, please read this post:  Life Won’t Be The Same.  At the moment, the pain is winning, but I’ll be back as often as I can.  If you don’t see me for awhile, please say a prayer.  Thank you.

     Now, I’m headed back  to bed.  Thank you for visiting.  Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya