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Conundrum of the Lost Tooth Crown
We lost the crown at a picnic, at least that’s what we assumed when we woke up next morning with no tooth.
The meat was kind of tough, we agreed, and the crown has popped out before because Chaos talked us into a licorice binge which pulled the crown off its base, so we assumed the thing went down along with the wine and song.
We dismissed the possibility it would be sitting on the table next to our comfy chair which we checked and rechecked at least 50 times.
Control contemplates the worst case scenario as presented by Chaos;
- Which collander do we sacrifice to retrieve the sacred tooth crown when it reappears.
Of course, the only item we have to use is the sacred Pastafrian Collendar Hat.
It’s old, aluminum, brittle and useless as an actual food strainer long time past but serves perfectly for Pastafarian sacred rituals and events.
Back to the conundrum, how long does a body take to expell a consumed tooth?
Versus
What is the expense of replacing said tooth cap…vs very unsanitary and displeasing colandar sifting time.
Made appointment with Dentist
This morning the Other approaches and asks “Are we missing this tooth by any chance?”
Now we contemplate the gratitude we share for not only not having to run our favorite collandar hat but not straining our waste through our favorite collandar hat for a week for nothing.
Alas, Victory Short Lived
We, of course, immediately reverted to the usual carelessness and brushed our teeth too vigorously one evening and spat the thing out in the sink…forever lost.
Yes, we checked the trap. 
Off we go to the dentist. Not only cursing Chaos for losing the expensive thing, Control for not stopping Chaos and ourself for knowing better and steeling outself for the long wait, temporary crown and expense.
To our surprise our new dentist office employs a 3-D printer to which an image of my tooth was printed, dried and fitted into the empty space within a two hour timespan.
Amazing inventions these days.
Twas fate that saved the Colander from sacrifice, or did His Divine Noodleness step in to lend a hand, Abraham & son fashion?
Here’s a tidbit we noticed on an unrelated search.
“In 2005, a college student made a webpage called The Church Of The Flying Spaghetti Monster. It was a joke based on the idea that there was no more scientific evidence for God or creationism than for belief in a flying spaghetti monster. The monster’s website received tens of millions of visitors, 60,000 emails (“about 95 percent” supportive), and was covered in The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Daily Telegraph. Six publishing companies entered a bidding war for the rights to the spaghetti monster’s “gospel”, with the winner, Random House, offering an $80,000 advance. The book was published to massive fanfare, sold over 100,000 copies, and was translated into multiple languages. Putin’s thugs broke up a pro-Flying-Spaghetti-Monster demonstration in Russia. At the time, this seemed perfectly normal.”
