Mashed Potato Sandwiches

I know, I know, you are all tired of my drama when it comes to my teeth.  Well, I don’t care.  It is the most interesting thing happening in my life right now so suck it up and sit through one more post about it! I mean: Please sit through this with me!

I had the unplanned tooth extraction on Tuesday.  Half way through the dentist stops and goes “Kate, I’m having some difficulty with this.”  Due to my TMJ, my jaw is slightly misshapen and the roots of my teeth don’t go straight down, they take a jog in there.  Now, I had been praying through this entire procedure; however, at this point, I stepped up the prayers to non-stop.  I was carrying on a conversation with God that was pretty much “Please help her get this done, please be with her, please let her get this out, pretty please let this work!”

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She kept working on the extraction.  Then, about ¾ of the way through she stopped again.  “Kate, we need to take an x-ray, I’m struggling to get this last little bit out.  If I can’t get it, I’ll have to send you to a surgeon.”

Not going to lie, at hearing this, my eyes filled with tears.  I can’t impart to you how much I really didn’t want to go see an oral surgeon.  I mean, really, REALLY didn’t want to go.  My prayers turned to the promise stage “Lord, I’ll do whatever you want me to, just let her get this out.  Am I currently too obsessed with the TV show Supernatural?  Okay, fine, I’ll stop watching it – just let her get this out.  You want my first born?  Okay, fine, just let her get this tooth out.”  (I don’t think I really offered up Mr. T, but, I might have!! It’s pretty much a blur…)

Next thing I knew, she was stitching me up!!  This one wouldn’t heal on its own, but she managed to get it out.  I also needed to have a script for antibiotics, since the work had been so invasive.  I had filled my script for pain pills last week, but ran to Wal-Mart for some penicillin.  The wait is 45 minutes.  I sat on the bench and did my best to survive.  It was done in 10 minutes!  Massive blessings!

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Heaven in a cup!

I went home and curled up on the couch.  I texted my dad and told him that I did need him to pick up Mr. T that night and would he please grab me a chocolate shake? Not only did he bring me a shake, but he brought me mashed potatoes and gravy.  Oh my goodness.  Best meal ever.  I made it about half way through the mashed potatoes and gravy and then put them in the fridge.  I had been starving, but didn’t really have anything at the house I could eat, so this was a life saver. (Yes, I had been to Target that morning and yes, I just completely spaced the fact that I needed food I could actually eat…but I did remember to pick up The Hobbit for T’s Easter gift and a couple of chocolate bunnies for us! Priorities you know!)

The next morning I was working from the couch and got hungry.  I knew I only had half of a serving of potatoes left… and it had to last me breakfast and lunch.  So, I did what anyone would do.  I grabbed a couple of slices of bread to go with it!  I got my spoon and smeared a bit of potatoes on the bread and took a bite.  It was perfect.  It was just the right size for my mouth to handle, and soft enough that I could eat it.

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Best thing since sliced bread!

I had my own little mashed potato and gravy sandwich.  It was Heaven – and so good that I went ahead and had it again for lunch!

For the record, today I’m doing so much better.  I am still slightly swollen and I ache, but overall, I feel that I’m on the road to recovery!   She did chip the tooth next to it as she was working, but I have to have a root canal on that one in three weeks, so I’m not worried!

But, you know what I really want?  Some crack.  How soon till I can eat that you think?

Crack is Too Good to Waste…

…So I ate it after my dog.

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Shorty at this years Halloween party. Hanging out in the kitchen with us.

You all know my dog Shorty, the best chihuahua in the world.  He doesn’t know a stranger.  He’s not a yipper or an ankle biter.  He’s a cuddler, a lover.  He is also a good guard dog, he lets me know if anyone is on my property.  I love that about him.

Tonight, he’s not the best dog in the world, he’s the dog that got into my crack.  Now, before you get all upset, let me explain.  A few months ago I went to Taco Bell while Mr. T was out of town, and they had this new menu item, a cookie sandwich.  I got one, I tried it and I was in heaven.  This thing is pure bliss. A few days later I went back just so I could order one.  When Mr. T got back into town, I was like “we have to have Taco Bell tonight, they have these amazing sandwich cookies, they are like crack!” (For the record, I’ve never done crack, so, I could be wrong, these could be nothing like crack (and I really don’t know which drug that really is) but to me these are what I imagine crack would be like!)

From that moment on, T and I have referred to these cookies as crack.  It’s Friday and I cook all week long so that we can indulge Friday nights.  Tonight he was trying to decide between Taco Casa and Taco Bell.  Normally, we prefer Taco Casa and that is where he was leaning… and then I said “but Taco Bell has crack.”  We went to the Bell.

I ate my dinner and took a bite of my crack.  Then I sat it down and had to step away for a few minutes.  I came back and Shorty was looking awfully guilty.  I looked over and he’d gotten in my chair, dug into the bag, opened the bag and had been eating my crack.  “Shorty, bad dog, get outside!!”  He ran.  I sat down and looked at my cookie… what was left of it. Several thoughts went through my brain. He’d only had a few bites.  Licked some of the frosting.  He must have had a few chocolate chips, I hope he doesn’t get sick.  Aren’t dogs mouths suppose to be pretty clean?

So, before I did what we all know I was contemplating, I sent out a text to two of my friends, both with dogs.  Both who understand my crack addiction and both who have been by my side all week long as I’ve gone through everything I went through this week.  I figure if anyone was going to be able to tell me “No, step away from the crack!” it would be them.

Bert said his son shares popsicles with his dog and he hasn’t died yet.  And Erica said “um, yes you can [eat after him]”.

That’s all I needed!  I did pick off one part of the cookie, but not cause Shorty nibbled on it… he’d licked all the frosting off, the cookie isn’t the same without the creamy frosting middle.

Yup, that just happened.  I ate after my dog.  But that crack was too good to waste!!

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Taco Bell cookie sandwich, aka – crack!