Bustin' a Cap

I chipped a tooth. Feelin' pretty happy about that. And not just any tooth. A front tooth. Well technically, I busted a cap that was bonded to a front tooth. Hey! Don't hate me because I'm lucky. That's just the way it is. I figure I'm about one more physical catastrophe away from becoming the next guest on Jerry Springer. I've been porkin' right on up, my hair needs mowin' (both head and legs), most of my clothes have paint splotches on 'em and now I have a chipped front tooth. I guess all I really need is a cigarette hanging out of my mouth, a beer in one hand, a barbed wire tattoo on my bicep and a baby or two hanging off my hips to turn myself into the quintessential white trash grandma. Luckily, I quit smoking, it's too early for a beer, tattoos aren't my thing and (somewhat unluckily) my grandchildren aren't with me right at this minute. Other than that, though - there's not much standing between me and Jerry Springer fame! I'll start working on distancing myself from that fate. Got a dentist appointment July 2nd, a haircut is just a phone call away and we've already discussed that weight issue (remember - I'm only staying chunky because my husband wants me like that!). Here's hoping the dentist works fast and painlessly (ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha) and nothing else goes wrong - like peeling toenails or some other strange affliction.