So it turns out all I really want for Xmas are my two front teeff (and not that long left roller I’ve been hunting). Kay and I followed up that wild reserve session with a quickie in Clov Corner, where a gust managed to flip the board and spear it straight back into my face as I surfaced behind the wave. Wrong place, wrong time, law of averages and all that.
Two smashed front teeth (which I fortunately did not swallow) and a 3-finger gash through my lower lip. Six hours of running repairs at #Constantiaberg and a dental emergency centre later, and the teeth have been jimmied back in place, while 14 stitches inside and outside my mouth should leave me with a permanent Bollywood bad guy smirk.
The Myprodol seems to be doing an okay job, but I doubt I’ll be eating that leg of free-range lamb I’m doing on the braai tomorrow. But you know what? It’s Christmas and it’s all kiff, with family and lekker folks all round. So here’s to heaps of good cheer (and cold beers) to all of you. Merry Blerrie Chrithmith!
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