Papa went to the dentist twice yesterday. He went in the morning and then had to go back to get a tooth pulled in the afternoon. Grammy was telling me this story and she said they went in and numbed his mouth, and just pulled it right out. She said it had really good, strong roots and Papa was really happy with that because it affirms his idea he is going to live a lot longer. When I got home from work, Papa came up to me with a flashlight and told me to look at where he got a tooth pulled. I think he is really proud of it. He told me his face is still numb, so I asked him if he is going to slobber during dinner, because that would be embarrassing. He laughed and said he wasn't sure, but he'll try his best not to.
At breakfast this morning, Papa was talking about his tooth and how much better his mouth feels now. He said that he would have had to get a crown on it, but he thinks the tooth was infected so he's glad they pulled it. "I have to think about the long run, like when I'm 90." Grammy laughed and said "That's right, you've got 10 more years." Papa responded: "Well I have 10 more healthy years, until things start getting bad. Then I start declining."
In conclusion, he is glad he got his tooth pulled.
Last night before dinner, Papa told me he really wants me to make some cookies. So, I asked him what kind and he said, "Peanut butter. Wait, those might be too crunchy since I just got my tooth pulled. My face is still a little numb. I think I want a carrot cake. I saw a picture in a magazine and it looked really good." And he decided he was going to go to the grocery store (in the sleet) and get some. Grammy told him she wanted to make one from scratch because she doesn't think a boxed carrot cake sounds very good. So, Papa went and got us carrots and Grammy and I made a homemade carrot cake, and it was darn good. We weren't going to eat any, but when we tried to go to rehab to exercise, it was too icy outside so we couldn't drive and we decided to eat cake instead.