My friend Karen has mothering down to an exquisite science. A gift she does not reserve for her sons alone. I spent the last weekend of summer as her guest at her lovely New Jersey shore home. If all you know of New Jersey is its' turnpike I suggest you one day turn east towards its' beauty. Three old broads joyously baring their wrinkles and jiggles to the sea. 

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Karen, was going on Saturday and I was to take the long and winding train from New York City on Sunday. The morning she was to leave was the precise morning her tooth decided it would inflame. A quick trip to the dentist determined that an extraction was in order and that Tuesday, the fourth day of her vacation, would be the day to do it. So it was decided that I would travel with her Saturday and return with her Monday evening. Thus avoiding the long and winding train. That is the kind of girl my Karen is, oral surgery will not interfere with her friends pleasure.

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Upon arriving, my epitome of a hostess put out a loving spread. With a particularly good Gouda cheese. Which being of Scandinavian descent is one of my favorites. Very well aged, like the women eating it. I myself have recently had some pricey dental work and confidently bit into a chunk of Gouda. Savoring the contrast of grainy bits against smooth cheese. Perfection. But one crystallization in particular seemed a bit large. Thinking perhaps it was rind, I very daintily spit it out into my hand. It was suspiciously tooth shaped. And indeed it was one of my newly acquired caps.

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So the point of this long and winding tale, much like the train I did not have to take because I have a friend like Karen is this. When you spend a weekend at the beach with your girlfriends in you twenties it is most probable that one of you will loose your virginity. When you spend a weekend at the beach with your girlfriends in your sixties it is certain... one of you will loose a tooth.