|More fun at my house
||[Aug. 14th, 2003|10:17 am]
Yesterday Amy smacked her mouth in the pool at camp. No stitches, no real bleeding, but in the course of it getting iced and her being shook up, she managed to lose her retainer.
Her $500 retainer.
She and Ferrett searched and searched, and then we went back and searched some more. We can only speculate that when she put down the ice wrapped in a napkin that they applied to her lip that her retainer was with it and someone cleaned it up and threw away the retainer without realizing.
It’s a small bit of clear plastic, fitted to her four front teeth and up to the roof of her mouth. It looks like nothing.
And it’s a small fortune to replace. Why? Because the orthodontist can get away with it.
I don’t really want to give in to the notion that we are having a run of bad luck at my house, but I am getting close to believing it. It seems like the stresses just keep piling up.
Heh, reminds me of my teenage years--what I lost all the time: My contact.
Note, here,the singular IS proper. ;)
At MINIUM of four times that I can recall, down the sink it went during the early morning ablutions. And I did not wear disposables, or softs, I wore hard contacts.
Soon, my mum learned to buy a spare when we renewed the prescription. Didn't frustrate her any less, though.
Ah, the joys of having children. *HUG*
My heart goes out to you in the chaos. It WILL be ok, really.
Offer up some apples. :)
I lost one retainer, broke two, and rescued all of them countless times from the cafeteria garbage can. Ooh, and there was one time that they (I had a top and a bottom) got dropped into the toilet. I feel your pain.
There is no bad luck.
There are moments that look that way, and believe me, I'm not looking at a stall full of manure and saying that there's a pony in there, but the bad stuff is what makes the good stuff good.
"Happiness comes in small does, people. It's a cigarette, it's a beer, it's a five-second orgasm, it's a cookie. You have the orgasm, eat the cookie, smoke the butt, drink the beer, and go to bed. End of fucking list." -- Dennis Leary
I read the Ferrett's post on how the retainer eventually turned up - a wonderful, magical feeling, and you couldn't have felt that good unless you felt this bad.
umm...what was I saying?