Les dents

It was bound to happen eventually, I guess.

This week, after nearly 60 years of almost laughably uneventful dental checkups, I scored two cavities, gum recession, and a chipped wisdom tooth that has to be removed. (#17, for readers with a dental chart handy.) Moreover, given my irreproachable lifestyle, the most likely culprit isn’t candy or failure to brush, isn’t smoking or grinding or anything humanly preventable.

It’s time.

By which I mean the ravages thereof.