Hello, and welcome to the very first WICKED WEDNESDAY!
I once had a tooth knocked out by a football. The story is no different from what it sounds like it will be. There I was, just 7 years old, in the middle of a school oval, with a football soaring towards my face, one which I failed to catch before it made contact.
I’ve been hit with many a flying object in my time, so didn’t think much of it. One of the other little girls pointed out a puddle of blood which had dripped onto my knee, but I shrugged off her concerns like they were nothing. Clearly they were not nothing, and she raised her hand to tell the teacher that I was bleeding, by which point the blood was coming quite thick and fast. It all seemed like bit much of a fuss to me.
Washing my mouth out did very little, and my mouth was filling with blood so quickly that I couldn’t speak for spitting it all out. My mother was called and I went home.
One little tooth, hanging far above the rest by no more than a thread; it bled for a good two hours. In this time I got quite hungry, but my tooth was certainly not up to any meal, so I was made an egg flip to drink.
Egg flips are very creamy, and I found this out the hard way. My tooth was too loose to be brushed, and I didn’t want to encourage it to bleed again, I would have to away the cream with a tissue.
The football was not the only thing that flew that day. Straight out of my mouth, my tooth at last made it’s dramatic exit, landing right on the next tissue in the tissue box.
Quite the day, and quite the story to tell, I do hope that tooth fairy paid me well for my troubles.