End of the Ice Age

I had to go to the dentist last week. My years -- no- decades -- of being an ice cruncher finally caught up with me. See, I simply delight in ice, looking forward to finishing my drink just so I could gather lovely pieces of frozen water in my mouth and then break them down into tinier, lovelier pieces of frozen water. 

The act is automatic. My friends know this and express their support for my preference every time we go out. One even went as far as gifting me with rubber-bottomed, artsy ice trays. 

But pain had been building up until that week when I could neither eat nor sleep well anymore. I was lucky there was no serious cavity to address, just severe sensitivity that perhaps came with age and wear and tear.

So, no more crunching. Good thing there are compromises such as this -- drinks just on the edge of freezing. 



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