Well it’s happened. It’s not like he hasn’t been warned. My hubby has lost one of his teeth. The first sign that he is definitely getting old…or it’s time to start taking care of himself…or both.
Hey Peter Pan, did you think you could live your entire life eating tons of crap, drinking lots of caffeine drinks and smoking and not have any consequences?
Did you think you could treat your body like you were still 18?
Did you think your dentist was kidding when he said to start taking better care of your teeth?
Did you think the doctor does all those tests on you every year during your physical, discusses with you at length the results, because she has a crush on you?
Threats of turning him in for two, fit, healthy twenty-five year olds didn’t work.
Threats of putting him into a home as soon as he craps himself didn’t work.
Threats of travelling by myself when he retires while he’s at home with his oxygen tank, didn’t work.
But the threat of more tooth loss and the mention of the D word(dentures) and he is finally ready to embrace the changes I have been begging him for ages to make.
He finally sees that if he wishes to enjoy his retirement, he’s counting the years (days) he has left, he must start taking better care of himself. He realizes that he needs his health to do the things he wants to do. And to a certain extent, he knows now that he can control or defer illness by treating his body properly.
Well it’s about friggin time, thank God. If only I had known one missing tooth would elicit this kind of conformity, I would have punched that sucker out long ago.
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