"Don't touch me. I'm broken."

I have a hard time with dental appointments.

When I had a cleaning on Monday this week, the hygienist and dentist asked me if I knew I had a cracked tooth.

They started talking, and I started to lose it.

My dentist quickly realized this, and put her hand on my shoulder.

"It's just a crown," she said. "No implants or extractions or bone grafts or oral surgeons this time."

Oh. Just a crown? Not even a root canal to go along with that?

I can live with that.

I went back on Wednesday for my first crown appointment. When I sat down in the chair to look at the pretty view of the pond, I read a post-it note that was hanging from the blinds.

It said: "Don't touch me. I'm broken."

I sympathized with that post-it note, and I almost took it.

Don't worry, post-it note. I'm broken, too.

Literally, I'm broken...my tooth that I had fixed on Wednesday fell out of my mouth on Thursday.

Want to see it? It's pretty cute.

I get the permanent crown next week, so this little dude is just going to hang out with me in my office until then.

---

Comment from everyone at my dental office: "I forgot you have the world's tiniest mouth."

Thanks?