Tooth is Stranger than Friction

Still having problems with my crown. Getting distinctly tarnished now, in a figurative sense. I am admittedly a complete wuss when it comes to pain (hence a five-minute labour, and even then we ended up taking the emergency exit), so when someone asks me "Well, how much does it hurt?", it's tricky. What's my frame of reference? Not child-birth, obviously. So, the "residual" pain of the root canal, does not hurt as much as a migraine, nor yet the agonizing tearing amputation-level burn of a portuguese-man-o'-war (something I always try and mention at least once during a dinner-party; "...and you know, wee really doesn't work...."), but, yes, a little bit more than a stubbed toe, or that moment you realise you have left a teensy bit of foil on a piece of Kit-Kat (the dentist's eyes were starting to glaze at this point). So he's suggested, once he retested with a bit of carbon-paper for the bite (well, they have had to find a use for it somewhere nowadays) that I go and see a root-canal specialist (how do people choose these jobs at school? I was told to become a child-nurse, and that "there is no money in art". Sage advice). This, alas, will probably wait until September, when we roll into the next year of the Tooth Insurance.

At least, it will definately wait until after our hols - in a couple of weeks' time, we're off to Las Vegas, and a Cowboy Adventure near to the Grand Canyon. We can ride ponies and sleep in wagons. I think there are also bean-feasts and compulsory fire-side singing.

The school holidays have gone whoosh (makes sudden hand-flapping movement). Already T has reached the French Cuisine week at school. Poor little thing - on the way, she asked how long it was going to be for, and I said 5 days. "But....but...I don't have any toys with me". She thought I was going to just drop her off for a week.