I had to sit in the dentist’s chair again today for the 3rd time in 49 days, and the lovely news is that I need a crown. This not-so-awesome news comes on the heels of having two teeth pulled.
You know, when I think of getting a crown, I think of something magical—like being a princess, or queen, or some other wonderful royal spectacle. I don’t want to think of my tooth being ground away and my head feeling like I’ve been smacked upside it with a baseball bat.
I think of rich colors like purple and blood red. I don’t want to think of temporary tin foil silver and the subsequent not-quite-white color coming in the permanent model.
Most if all, when I think of crowns, I think of the commercial from my childhood.
Now that’s a crown!
And in case you don’t know about Imperial Margarine, here it is:
The next time I hear, “Let’s crown it,” it’d better be my head we’re talking about.