One Less Bullet Point of Excellence

Today, I had two cavities filled.  In two weeks, I will have another filled.  THAT'S THREE CAVITIES.  THREE.

I experienced all seven stages of grief when my dentist told me that I had to get these "three little spots taken care of."  This is a man who really should have found himself a career in PR or marketing because he has such a way of spinning words that I was pretty excited to get started with the "straightforward, conservative procedure" this morning.

I made it to 24 before I got any cavities.  Does that count for anything? NO.  You only win at life if you NEVER get a cavity.  Lucky for me, I still have "never broken a bone" and "have traveled outside of the US" and "can successfully boil an egg" on my short list of Things That Make You Win At Life.  However, I cannot successfully make layered jello, so maybe that cancels out the egg thing.

The last stage of grief is acceptance and hope.  I'm there. Kinda.  But boy, I will be doing everything humanly possible to prevent three from becoming four.  I'm done with straightforward, conservative procedures.  Maybe I'll name my first child 'Flossie', lest she forget the importance of winning at life and not having any cavities.