Ingrid Bergman had beautiful teeth. Neat, white, and not a coffee stain in sight. Humphrey Bogart’s weren’t as pretty but he still had that Hollywood smile. Even Claude Rains was mocking me from the 30 foot high screen.
Do Hollywood stars have wisdom teeth? It’s something I was pondering whilst sitting in the dark of the matinée yesterday. Casablanca was playing on the big screen.
Bergman was beautiful, Bogart was more handsome than I ever thought possible. The script was sharp and witty, the acting superb. And all I could think of was teeth. And how much I hate them.
I awoke last week to these chilling words from my dentist. From memory it went something like this. Wisdom tooth. Urgent. Out. That’s all I remember before I passed out from shock.
God blessed me with tooth roots that descend to the very depths of hell. Actually I always picture Yggdrasil (a tree from Norse mythology whose roots extended into the heavens) when my teeth are mentioned. My last wisdom tooth extraction involved a four-wheel drive, a block and tackle, and three hours of cursing from the dental surgeon. A chainsaw would be more appropriate than those dinky little dental tools.
This time though they were prepared. Six numbing needles and the extraction was a doddle. Three minutes and it was all over. A doddle.
Except now my face is swollen, my jaw is throbbing and I feel very unwell. Me-thinks antibiotics are in order. And a sleep on the lounge.
I’ll bet Ingrid Bergman never had wisdom tooth troubles. Not with those pretty teeth.