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In second grade I was at a school track meet. Didn’t have an event soon, so I was fucking around running up and down the bleachers.
Tripped and fell teeth-first. Broke a few of my front teeth. Fortunately many were still “baby” teeth, but not my two front teeth on the top.
Those two have been a constant struggle ever since. Crowns made of bonding material, then eventually root canals, posts, real crowns, then surgery going through the gums to shave down bone required because of a bad root canal, then a new crown because of a poor seal on one of the crowns…
I haven’t bit into an apple in decades, because I just know that if I do I could lose a crown. Last time I lost a crown was while eating a damn breakfast burrito.