"Mommy can't take your call; please try again later."

So I had a crud load of dental work done over the last two days. Yesterday was fine, but today my sweet and caring dentist seems to have channelled the Marquis de Sade. He warned that I might "feel a little soreness or temperature sensitivity. He failed to mention that my brain would slowly ooze out my ear and that all hopes and prayers I had for such novel tasks as talking (yes, Dave's amused I can't really talk), eating, drinking, and not drooling would be forever gone.

Now I am not exactly a wuss when it comes to pain. I birthed a nine pound baby without meds and stated that it was the easiest and most perfect birth ever (still feel that way). I had my wisdom teeth pulled and drove from the dentist's office to Vegas with Andi and Dave and didn't miss a beat. Hell, last week I screwed up one of my pinkies carving bamboo with the kids and I taped that sucker with Duct tape (Dad would have loved that one!) and a spare piece of bamboo. I am a bad ass mama of two boys! Or so I thought....

I am currently sitting on the couch, drool cup on one side and computer on the other. Gus keeps looking up at me with this "Who are you to judge me?" look. Yes, even the Dane thinks I drool more than him. And honestly, I don't care about the drool, but being able to breath without air hurting my teeth would be really great.

I understand that preventive care is important but I cannot imagine that any horrid, tooth destroying ickiness could possibly hurt this much. Next time I am totally letting them fall out on their own.