Murphys Law, Part 3

Oh Mr. Murphy, you are a funny one. *Insert dry sarcastic laugh here.* About 20 minutes outside of Bakersfield Nathan popped a few Skittles into his mouth because his blood sugar was starting to dip. As he chewed he let out an exclamation of surprise and stuck his finger in his mouth. When I asked him what was wrong, he explained that a big piece of one of his molars had just broken off. I took a look and sure enough, the inner half of one of his molars was now gone, exposing the slick silver of a filling.

I called my mom who then called my uncle who lives in Bakersfield and he gave her the number of a dentist to call. Of course, thank you Mr. Murphy, none of the dentists were in because it was Friday. But the office gave us another office to try, which luckily had an available opening . . . In two hours. So we ate some lunch and did some exciting shopping in a local Walgreens and then proceeded to the dentist office where we arrived 45 minutes early. 2 hours and lots of novocaine later, we exited with a patched up Nathan and got back on the road.

As it currently stands, we've been on our way for six hours. We should only have 30 minutes to go, but instead have four more hours. What's that Murphy? Knock on wood.