True story; I Found My Crown in The Crapper

Contrary to what you may think, the title was not chosen to attract attention. I found my crown in the toilet is the whole story.

It began June 7th of this year. While eating a delicious pulled-pork sandwich, I swallowed my crown. Once I realized what I had done, I quickly drank two Miller Lites to wash it down.

At my wife's urging, nice word for bitching, I went to the hospital to get an x-ray. By the way, you can't just walk into the hospital and tell them you need an x-ray. Tried that. They looked at me as if I had walked into Burger King and ordered a McFeast.

After the obligatory family history questionnaire and insurance verification, the tech took pictures of my chest. There it was, turned sideways just under my left nipple. I saw the metal post looking like a small penis, so I said, "Aw look, I am having a boy. "The tech didn't find that comment funny, either.

The doctor on call told me to just go home and it would pass in five-seven days. He also gave me a shit kit. That is a plastic sombrero looking thing that goes over the toilet for me to collect my deposit. It also included a dozen or so throat compressors. No instructions provided or necessary.

I searched daily at 6:00 am, as thoroughly as an archeologist looking through centuries-old shit for a prized artifact. After 30 days or stirring and gagging and mistaking undigested, bloated corn kernals for my tooth, I gave up.

Well, November 18 arrived. After doing my bodily business, I flushed. I flushed again. Still, one of those cling-ons wouldn't go down. I flushed a third time. Bingo.

A few minutes later, my wife screams, "Oh shit." It was one of those, "Damn, I dropped my eyeliner down the drain." type screams, so I paid little attention. Then she said, " You're not going to believe this. I found your crown."

Sure enough, there it was in the toilet. She reached in, pulled it out, and handed it to me. She's a great wife. It was intact. Beautiful. I put it in a baggie for safekeeping.

Then we laughed because just the day before, we had been haggling with our dentist about who was responsible for the cost of replacing it.

Now, I have to call him back and tell him where I found it. Five months, 11 days later.

Moral of this story, don't ever take shit for granted.