So last week Friday I had a little dentist appointment.
Actually a long one – almost 90 minutes – at which I was informed that I hadn’t had a cleaning in over a year, a checkup in a year and a half, and had committed various other sins of omission (such as that age-old dentist no-no: neglecting to floss).
But my primary purpose for the visit was to fix a chipped tooth. Nothing major, just a little chip. Why, the savvy blog ready might be asking, are you writing about a chipped tooth? Are we, some might sigh, next going to hear about marathon fingernail-clipping sessions or late-night belly lint removals?
The interesting part – at least to the dentist, who was doubled over in laughter – was the cause of the chip. Which was, indeed, my iPhone.
How could I chip my tooth with my iPhone? Well, it wasn’t due to gnawing or hunger pangs. Nor was it thrown by a furious reader wondering why I am refusing to get to the point.
It was much more mundane than all that.
Very simply, I was in bed. I was reading my Google Reader feeds while flat on my back … and therefore forced to hold the phone over my face.
When it slipped, well, the rest is history. Chip by iPhone, basically.
Yeah, that’s a pretty good first-world problem.
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