Why is it that when something breaks down or goes wrong, it always happens at night or the weekend when all the professionals such as plumbers, roofers, chiropractors and dentists are closed?

On Friday evening I broke my front tooth.  I'd like to be able to say that I did it battling hordes of ravening orcs or swinging from a vine through the rainforest canopy, but the sad truth is I was eating a sausage.  It was a vegetarian sausage, so I can't even blame biting hard on a piece of bone or gristle.  Naturally, my dentist was closed and won't open again until tomorrow, so I've spent two days looking like a witch from a Brothers Grimm tale or a pirate every time I smile.

Unless I want to scare next-door's cat (and sometimes I'm tempted) my best policy is probably to refrain from opening my mouth and to find a positive way to use the experience.  I think I feel a story about the tooth fairy coming on, or maybe a blog...