My broken Tooth

While eating tea the other night, half my tooth sheared off. I think I was eating spinach and thought a spinach leaf was caught over my tooth as it felt oddly smooth. My tongue rubbed itself over my tooth several times, trying to move the non-existent leaf.

Suddenly to my horror I realised my tongue was feeling a new caveneous hole where my tooth was. I reached for my mirror and opened my mouth wide, arrhhing into the mirror. Christ half the tooth was gone. Bottom left, 4th from front. I gurned this way and that, turning my head to see how many different angles my tooth could be seen from.

I sat realising, I was now very, very old. Ok, it was a milk tooth that had held on, but my perfect mouth was now imperfect and whoever was unlucky enough to date me in the future, would now have to accept my half missing tooth amongst everything else.

The 'else' was, was many more things that women just don't talk about and men don't want to know about.

I re-looked at the tooth, my tongue doing it's own thing darting in and out of the new enamel crescent. I sighed, it would have to do and I will have to smile less wide.