I’ve had one of those weeks that has left me barely able to form a coherent sentence, let alone an entire string of sentences to compose a blog post. So for this week, I am resorting to pictures. If a picture is worth 1,000 words, consider this my Moby Dick.
The week started off with a tooth extraction. Not for me but for poor, poor Sarah who has been cursed with the Reichert-Shin dental genes. As my mother-in-law and I told Sarah: it is too late for either of us to marry or become a dentist, but it’s not too late for you. Do not make the same mistakes as your elders!
So what happened? The filling from February did not “take” and the tooth died. We discovered this a couple of weeks ago when Sarah pointed out a bulbous, purplish growth on her gums. An emergency visit to the dentist revealed that the tooth was abscessed and needed to go. So this past Monday, I took her to an oral surgeon for the extraction. Here she getting prepped:
The surgeon gave her a combination of novocaine and laughing gas to relax her. Then, he proceeded to basically use brute strength and a set of child-sized pliers to wrench the tooth out of her mouth. Medieval torture chamber or modern day dentistry? You tell me.
Of course, Sarah couldn’t waste this opportunity to line her coffers. Here’s her note to the Tooth Fairy asking to keep her tooth. This is the 3rd tooth she’s wanted to save for a yet to be determined purpose. I just hope she’s not planning to make me some sort of Hannibal Lecter-esque tooth necklace for Mother’s Day.
So that was the first half of the week. The rest of the week seemed to be on an upward trajectory: a dinner with my in-laws, outing with friends, a night out with Chris. But late Friday night, lightning literally struck. A large oak in our neighbors back yard went down in a blaze of glory, taking down power lines, poles, and a transformer.
16 HOURS with no power later, the electric company sent in the calvary:
Briefly, we wondered if we should flee the house. The guys from the electric company were unsure that they would be able to get it fixed that day. So we prepared to spend the night elsewhere and Katie had a grand old time packing her suitcase:
As the hours wore on, the workmen thought they could do it so we decided to stay put and enjoy the show.
And a mere 9 hours later and 25 hours after we lost it, we had power. At midnight, our lights flickered on and I almost wept in gratitude. Katie woke up the next morning and tested all the light switches to make sure they worked and screamed, “THE POWER WORKS! THE POWER WORKS!” every single time. It was like Christmas in August.
Here’s hoping next week leaves me a less crazed, more peaceful, and without a refrigerator full of bad dairy.