Mothers need quiet time to stay sane

So yesterday I awoke at our normal un-natural time of day to begin shoving my children out of the house for school.  I made my coffee and went over to my calendar to see what was going to occupy my time that day.

And low and behold-------------nothing was on the calendar (the paper calendar that I keep on the wall- and write on with an actual pen- archaic I know, but still how I roll).

A whole day- what shall we do?  I know- oral surgery!  Yay me.

I have this spot on the front of my gums that keeps getting lower and lower and lower (like other parts of my body- ahem).  But the dentist said as long as it wasn't hurting it was no big deal.

Until last week- when it started swelling and hurting and hurting and swelling and bleeding.  So yesterday I took the plundge and called to let him hack my mouth to pieces with a laser.  Basically- he had to slice through that little flippity flap of skin that holds your bottom lip to your gums- where normal people have one of these things, I had two and it was pulling my gums down off my teeth.  Nice. 

(I blame my parents and their crappy DNA where teeth are concerned.  Nothing but teeth problems over here. And technically they should have to pay my medical bills- since they are all essentially their fault in the first place- can I get an amen?  Mom- I'll send a bill).

So I suppose you could say that I was gifted some me time yesterday.  If by 'me time' you mean being stabbed in the sensitive part of your mouth with needles until you can't speak any longer and then watching a man in special glasses burn the flesh in your mouth while inhaling the awesome aroma of melting skin and trying to count the smoke rings COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH.

Oh- and I cracked a filling.  So in a couple weeks I get to go back and let him stab around some more.  Sans laser this time.

You only WISH you were me.