It goes like this...
Many (at least ten) years ago Mr D & I were camping with a group of friends. It was hot and so I put my (rather large) bar of chocolate in our cold box.
It turns out that box was pretty cold, and the lesson was learnt never to bite into an extra cold bar of chocolate.
Yep. Broke my front teeth.
There started many trips to the dentist where the outcome after months of root fillings, pain, and toothless days was a crown for one of my front teeth and a false tooth. (the crown for that one refused to stay in & i was so fed up I just said get me a false one!) No. I don't take my false tooth out every night and leave it in a glass.(Don't tell me you weren't asking me that in your head) There left one of my own teeth at the front, which was root filled.
Many years later, all was going dandy until I woke up one morning (last week) and thought my (one real front) tooth felt a bit strange. Then it fell apart.
Mortified. You would be.
Add to that my dentist who I trust with my life and my face was gadding about on holiday.
I have been a week now with no front tooth. Preparations for the crown have been done by the nice (if somewhat brisk) polish lady, and somewhere in some laboratory the elves are making me a brand spanking new tooth.
I have a speech impediment. Caused by the gap. And I'm paranoid about biting anything and so i cut all my food into little pieces.
I'm quite proud of myself for even leaving the house, as many of my friends have told me they wouldn't.
But I keep telling myself there are worse things that could happen.
And every one knows I'm usually beautiful this is just a little blip right?
Mr D tells me quite calmly that it's just a chapter of my life that I'll look back on one day and laugh about.