A Royal Pain – Part I

Last week in a post entitled Reflections of an Autism Mom, I made a case that I deserve a tiara.

The universe listened.

The universe is perverse.

…and has a twisted sense of humor.

The bastard.


After receiving many kind and wonderful remarks on my autism parenting skills, the very next day, I decide to take my son to the nearby Kroc Center to swim…DURING SPRING BREAK.

The gasp you just heard was all autism parents everywhere, inhaling in shock. Wait for a minute; the planetary vacuum pressure should return to normal momentarily.

For those of you who DON’T have autistic children, picture taking any child anywhere at times of peak attendance…and then hand that child a rabid mongoose and suggest he or she juggle the beast, while running barefoot across broken glass, and let’s throw in some flaming darts to dodge for a little excitement. The reaction would probably be somewhat similar*

My son managed one turn on the swirly slide into the pool before he informed me in his inimical fashion, that he was “All Done.”**

After the aggression and tears subsided, I slunk home depressed and discouraged and kicking myself for trying when I knew it was not likely a good idea.

So, I decide a night like this calls for take out pizza.

What could go wrong with pizza?

Alexei scarpers away from the table with his half of thin and crispy—like Gollum hoarding his precious. I’m just calming down from the painfully upsetting events of the day. I take a few bites of food and have to admit, pizza is a nice consolation prize…and then, something goes unexpectedly…



I feel around with my tongue–excavating the new, sharp dental landscape. I’m no expert or anything, but even I recognize when a sizable portion of a tooth is missing.

Over-the-counter repair kit–surprisingly cheap and easy to use. Sadly, not a permanent option.

I head to the store for some emergency tooth spackle, lightning and thunder are crashing down around me…mixing with April snow showers…and HAIL. I kid you not.

I stare up at the greying dusk looking for the frogs that are obviously next as a harbinger of the apocalypse. I’m reminded of the scene from Forest Gump in which Lieutenant Dan climbs the mast of a small shrimping boat and curses God during a hurricane:

Unfortunately for me, the world doesn’t end…because I am just not that lucky. The next day dawns bright and crisp and I find a nearby DDS with an opening.

“You’re probably gonna need a crown.” Dr. Smith is peering into my mouth and poking around with sharp implements—because that’s what sadists…I mean dentists…do to fill the time. “We won’t know for sure until we remove your emergency filling and see what kind of damage there is. How’s next week look for you?”

Me, glumly, “Expensive. Next week looks expensive.”

All I wanted was a tiara. To feel like royalty.***

The universe answered my request, but it did so in the way Grimm’s fairytales warn us about. Be careful what you wish for…it may just come true.

Asterisk Bedazzled Footnotes:

*Not good. This just goes to show, despite many years of experience, we autism parents can have fatally blind optimism about outcomes.

**He bit me.

***I felt royally screwed, if that counts. On the upside, while Googling terminology, I discovered a secondary definition of Dental Dams. A whole new understanding of crass humor is now mine.

21 thoughts on “A Royal Pain – Part I

  1. You’re a super mom and if I have a magic wand, I’ll give you a diamond encrusted Tiara! You deserve it. I hope your next dentist appointment will be alright. I have taught English language in an autism provision dept in a Secondary school here in the UK so I know a bit of what you described. I believe every child is unique, they just see the world in a different way. Take care old friend, my love and warm regards to your family.😍😀🙏

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I did not know you were a teacher. (Once? Always?) It’s funny, I go to read people’s profiles and you can only glean so much from what people say. It’s nice to get a wider glimpse like this. I was once a teacher…still have a lapsed certificate that says so. But, as it turns out, teaching is hard work and I’m just too darned lazy, it seems. I hope the experience was rewarding for you. Also, I can now appreciate your kind comments on my work in future, knowing you have the expertise to judge that sort of thing. 🙂


      1. Yes, I am many things Kirizar. I taught English language at a grammar school abroad, then after that, I went straight into journalism and publishing. I’ll always be a writer and an educator. For the time being, teaching will take a back stage because of my health. I might teach higher education in a couple of years because I love academics. I’ll love to get my PhD in the nearest future too. Until then, I’ll be writing and publishing.
        I was also an actress once! That was years ago. Life’s too short to explore only one profession, although that’s my opinion.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. For crying out loud … Ugh, Kiri, I’m sorry! Did you ask him whether there was an alternative? My dentist has learned the hard way that he shouldn’t suggest expensive fixes if he hopes to be paid within the decade, so on the two occasions I’ve had a tooth break he’s actually rebuilt it. Apparently that isn’t as reliable as a crown, but mine are chomping away just fine.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I did ask, but was told this was a better option as he couldn’t guarantee the repair as well if he built it up using a traditional metal filling. A significant portion of the tooth was gone. But, I’ll admit, I didn’t insist on the cheaper option because I figured he was right.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. You know, I beginning to wonder if you are a good influence!? I find myself including naughty little gems just because I know you will spot them! Are you my crass and corruptible enabler? Or my lewd friend in arms?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. A GOOD influence? I don’t think anybody’s ever said THAT about me…. 😀 But, you know, I guess anything’s possible, right? I guess I’d prefer your friendly neighborhood recruiting office for the voluptuary ? 😀

        Liked by 1 person

    1. They actually offer fresh-baked cookies, if you can believe it. I didn’t dare take one for fear of chewing my tongue, with all the anesthetic I had, I couldn’t feel it for about an hour afterward. I’m still mostly chewing on the right side of my mouth five days later. The new one is sensitive. Sigh.


      1. Oh that sucks. I have a sensitive mouth myself. Make sure they don’t need to grind the surface a bit more. I was once in pain for 4 days and it was a simple, simple fix.

        Liked by 1 person

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