Friday

July 15, 2016

Disneyland?! Are you kidding me? No, Mr. Oral Surgeon. This is NOT Disneyland! This is a torture chamber. The gates of Hell just welcomed me in with nothing to offer but needles, pain and swollen cheeks.

And I'm sorry Mr. Oral Surgeon that you chose this as an occupation, because on days like today, no one wants to be your friend. Actually, they pretty much see you as a hybrid between the Devil and the Wicked Witch of the West.

And Cruella de Vil is probably a distant relative of yours too, just adding to your sinister demeanor (just kidding, those are just the drugs still talking -- I'm sure you are a very nice and intelligent person).

In case you are reading this and don't know me personally, I would just like to inform you that I am a wimp. A big, giant, whiny wimp. Especially when it comes to needles and doctor's offices.

I like to compare myself to a wet noodle in these circumstances. I turn limp, lifeless and extremely awkward. Unable to control my body or my emotions, I seem to flop about life like a dead fish.

There's nothing like walking into a waiting room with your hands already dripping with more sweat than Niagara Falls when another patient walks in for the same procedure like she just skipped on a rainbow and rode in on a magical unicorn.

Why can she hold it together and you are about as messy as an overflowing toilet?

Oh, and yeah it's cool, doctor -- go ahead and take your time starting the surgery too. I love being forced to sit in agony as I slowly turn into an even more uncontrollable wet noodle.

Let me just say, thank God for drugs. I might have gone under feeling like a worm, but man did I wake up feeling like a champ.

Now, I'm sitting on my recliner like the queen of the chipmunk universe as I eat ice cream and smoothies while my visiting family comes over and stuffs their face with potato chips.

Wait, so let me get this straight -- did you guys come to offer me loving support or to taunt me? Your crunchy food choices seem to convince me of the latter.

While I may be able to sit here and be lazy, binge-watching TV and surviving on a diet of mush, I will still continue to be my wet noodle self until I can sink my teeth into that big juicy hamburger that I dreamed about last night.

Of course, that happy dream didn't come until after I had a nightmare that I was robbed of all of my knowledge when they took away my wisdom teeth.

Sorry, mom and dad, for the next few days of whining you are about to endure. I promise I'll make up for it with at least two straight days of being extra pleasant.

If you have already gotten your wisdom teeth removed, or if you know you are going to in the near future, just know that this wet noodle prevailed and all you other wimpy pasta beings out there can too!

Signed,

A wimpy wisdom teeth kid