Molar of the Story
My right forearm has been hurting again, which explains the time away from 'non-essential' writing of every kind. Last Friday son and I went to the dentist. It was a belated routine visit as two months ago I was trying a treatment that could mean my not using glasses or contact lenses in the day and I didn't want to risk driving to the dentist with dodgey eyesight. When it was clear (pardon the pun) that the treatment was not working on my poor old eyes, I switched back. And the next available dentist appointment was ... last week. 'No wobbley teeth?' I asked casually. Of course I knew my son had no wobbley teeth. It was driving him nuts that he was not losing his milk teeth like all his mates. He can't wait to get his new teeth so that he could learn to play a wind instrument. With no sign of new teeth, he has gradually come round to accepting that it has to be the piano or violin and not the saxophone. Imagine my shock when the dentist then let on that son'