TOOTH AFTERNOON i Karen remained fixed on her husband, Plankton, who lay on the chair, his mouth slightly agape. Her screen flitted to the doctor's assistant, who offered a sympathetic smile and nod. “The wisdom teeth extraction was a success. You can stay with him as he wakes up from anesthesia, but it’s normal if he doesn’t act like himself for today, as it’s a strong medicine.” The nurse emerged. “Yes, everything went well, Karen. We’ve removed the offending teeth and he’ll be on the mend soon. Just keep an eye on him for the next twenty-four hours, and he’ll be fine.” Karen watched, hands clasped tightly in her lap, as the doctor closed the door with a soft click. She felt the weight of the world lift, but she didn’t dare move. The surgery was done, but she knew the battle was only beginning. The room was quiet except for the faint beeping of monitors and the steady rhythm of Plankton’s breathing. The anesthesia had done its job, keeping him in a deep sleep. His face was serene, a stark contrast to the chaos of the day’s events. Drool pooled at the corner of his mouth, and Karen reached over to gently wipe it away with a tissue. She didn’t want him to wake up to that. Karen’s mind raced with thoughts of home, of the quiet comfort that waited for them. She knew the next hours would be a test of patience as the drugs will linger in his system. The doctor’s words echoed in her head: "Don’t be alarmed if he’s groggy or doesn’t remember much." As Plankton’s eye fluttered open, Karen leaned in closer, her voice a gentle whisper. “Hey, everything’s okay. You’re all done.” But his eye closed again, his head lolling back into the pillow. A sigh escaped her. The surgery was over, but the anesthesia’s grip remained strong. Moments later, Plankton stirred. “Whathapennn...?” he slurred, his tongue thick and unwieldy. Karen stifled a laugh with love for his vulnerable state. She squeezed his hand, trying to offer comfort. “You had your wisdom teeth out, sweetie. You’re ok now,” she soothed, but he didn’t seem to comprehend. His eye searched the room, a dizzying swirl of confusion and drugs. He attempted to sit up, but his body didn’t obey. He fell back with a grunt, hands flailing to the sides. The nurse bustled in, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy, Mr. Plankton. You’re going to be a little loopy for a bit.” The words didn’t register. Plankton’s mouth was a cottony abyss where coherent thoughts went to die. He felt his tongue swell and thicken, his teeth floating in a sea of numbness. Karen watched, a mix of concern and amusement. “Thish isn’t right,” he mumbled. “Shomeone tookh my teethh!” Karen couldn’t help but chuckle at his slurred protest. “They just took the wisdom ones, hon. The ones that were giving you grief. You’re okay.” The doctor poked his head in, smiling at the sight of Plankton’s bewilderment. “How’s our patient doing?” Karen's amusement grew. “He’s under the influence, Doc. Thinks you took all his teeth!” The doctor chuckled, his eyes crinkling with good humor. “It’s the anesthesia. Give it some time to wear off, and he’ll be back to his charming self.” Plankton’s eye searched for her, blurry and unfocused. “Kareb, did they shteal my teef?” Karen’s chuckles grew louder. “They didn’t steal them, Plankton. They just removed the ones that were causing you pain. Your mouth is just a bit numb from the surgery.” Plankton’s eye widened. “Arrr, matey?” Karen’s laughter bubbled over. “No, you’re not a pirate, you just had surgery. The feeling will come back eventually.” Plankton blinked at her, his eyelid heavy. “Marrnin’, Karen. Wher’ arr we?” his words jumbled as he tried to piece together the fragments of reality that drifted in and out of his consciousness. The room was still, the only movement being the occasional twitch of his mouth as the anesthesia tried to keep him in its grasp. Karen’s screen sparkled with mirth. “We’re at the dentist’s, Plankton. You had your wisdom teeth removed.” “Wiz-dom...teef?” he slurred, his mind a foggy haze. Karen nodded, her laughter now a gentle rumble. “Yes, the doctor took them out so you don’t hurt anymore. You’re going to be okay now,” she cooed, stroking his forehead. But Plankton’s confusion was unyielding. “Marrnin’, Karen,” he mumbled again, as if trying to anchor himself in the familiar. “It’s afternoon, Plankton. You’ve been out for a while. You’re okay, though. Just a bit slow on the uptake, that’s all,” Karen teased, her voice filled with affection. Plankton blinked again, his eye trying to focus. “Af...ter...noon?” He felt the world spin around his head and groaned. “Wheh?” Karen nodded, her smile soft. “Yes, it’s afternoon. You’ve been asleep for a bit. But don’t worry, everything went well. The doctor got all the teeth out and you’re going to be fine.” Plankton’s eye searched hers, still not fully comprehending. “Teesh?” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. Karen nodded, her smile growing. “Yes, teeth, sweetie. The doctor took out the ones that were causing you pain. Remember?” Plankton’s face contorted in thought, his mouth a limp mess of numbness. “Oooh, yea...teefh,” he managed, the word dragging out.

TOOTH AFTERNOON v With care, Karen spooned a small amount of ice cream into a bowl, the coldness a stark contrast to the room’s warmth. She brought it to his mouth. “Here, just a little bit at a time. Let it melt a bit, okay?” she instructed, her voice a soft reminder of the care he needed. Plankton’s eye widened as the chilled sweetness touched his tongue. He took small, tentative licks, the taste familiar yet foreign in his numbed mouth. “Mmh...goog,” he murmured, his words still slurred. Karen watched with affection, her heart swelling with love as she fed him. The simple act of caring for him in this vulnerable state was a testament to their bond, stronger than the Krabby Patties they’d fought over countless times. She knew he’d be back to his usual antics soon enough. “Tank...you,” he managed, his voice still thick. Karen’s smile was a soft embrace. “You’re welcome, Plankton. Now, let’s get you comfortable. Here, lie back down,” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of the care he needed. Plankton’s body complied, his head sinking back into the pillow with a sigh. Karen carefully placed the bowl of ice cream on the bedside table. “Rest now, Plankton. I’ll be right here if you need anything,” she whispered. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his thoughts slowly coming into focus. “Ish...okay, Karen,” he mumbled, his speech still slurred as he closed his eye again. Karen watched him, her heart a gentle symphony of relief and love. She knew the recovery would be long, but the worst was over. With careful movements, she stood and dimmed the light, leaving just a soft glow from the lamp in the corner. She sat back down, her chair a silent sentinel in the quiet room. The hours ticked by, and Plankton’s snores grew more rhythmic, his body finally relaxing into deep sleep. Karen’s thoughts wandered to the days ahead, planning his care, his meals, his pain relief, and the moments of joy she’d weave into his recovery. The soft glow of dawn filtered through the curtains. Plankton’s eye fluttered open, his mouth throbbed with the echoes of the surgery. Karen stirred in the chair beside him, her eyes opening to the sight of him awake. She had spent the night in vigil, ready to ease his pain. “Morning, Plankton. How’re you feeling?” she asked, her voice a gentle melody. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his thoughts groggy from the remnants of sleep. The anesthesia worn off overnight, leaving him more aware. “Morning...whath...whath’sh...” his voice was a croak. Karen’s smile was a gentle awakening. “Good morning, sweetie. You had your wisdom teeth removed. Do you remember?” she asked. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his mind a foggy haze. “Tesh?” he mumbled, his mouth a swollen cavern. “I only remember getting set up for surgery, then...nothing.” Karen’s smile was a warm comfort. “Don’t worry, love. That’s normal. The anesthesia can make everything after that a bit fuzzy. But you’re home now, and you’re going to be ok,” she assured him, her voice a gentle caress in the early morning quiet. Plankton’s gaze searched the room, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings briefly unsettling him before he recognized the comfort of their bedroom. He shifted slightly, his jaw protesting with a dull throb. “Whath time ish it?” he mumbled, his speech still slow and thick. “And what the barnacles happened?” Karen’s chuckle was a soft symphony of amusement. “It’s morning, Plankton. And as for what happened, after you had your wisdom teeth removed, you had a bit of a loopy day. But now you’re home, and it’s time to star…” Plankton’s eye grew wide with realization. “Loopy?” he repeated, his voice still slurred. “How loopy?” Karen’s laugh was a soft symphony of memories. “Oh, you were quite the entertainment, Plankton. You talked about floobydust and bishbath, and thought it was still morning all afternoon. You even tried to sit up and look around while you had that IV in your arm!” she said, her voice filled with gentle teasing. Plankton’s eye grew wider with each word, his mind racing to fill in the gaps. “IV? Did it hurt?” he mumbled, his voice a sluggish river. Karen’s smile was a gentle reminder of his bravery. “No, sweetie. You were asleep for the surgery. You don’t remember because of the anesthesia. But don’t worry, I’m here to fill you in on the details you miss,” she said. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his curiosity piqued. “Tell meh... whath happened?” he asked, his voice a slurred plea for clarity. Karen’s smile grew, her voice a gentle stream of words. “Well, you were a bit out of it. You talked about wanting to see the lobby, even though we were in the recovery room. But I’ll start with the anesthetic. After they set up, they administered the sleepy juice, and you were out like a light, then they took your teeth out, no problem at all,” she recounted, her words a soothing balm to his confusion. Plankton’s eye searched hers. “Out like a light? How…” Karen’s smile was a soft reminder of his resilience. “Yes, you were out cold. Right after they put the IV in, you just closed your eye and went to sleep with an adorable snore. And the surgery went perfectly. No complications at all,” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of his strength. “And right before you first woke up from the anesthesia, I noticed you had a bit of drool. It was cute, really,” she added, trying to lighten the mood with a chuckle. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his mind racing with questions. “What else...Drool?” he asked. Karen’s chuckle was a warm symphony of shared moments. “Don’t worry; you were so tired, you didn’t even wake up when I had to change your gauze,” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of his vulnerability. Plankton’s hand reached up to his mouth, his fingers exploring the foreign presence. “Gauze? Why?” he mumbled, his speech still thick with sleep. Karen’s voice was a soft explanation. “It’s to help the bleeding stop, love. After they took your teeth out, they put some gauze in to help with the clotting. You had to keep it in for a bit, but you slept through most of it. You were a real trooper, barely even stirred,” she said, her words a gentle reminder of the surgery’s aftermath. Plankton’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion and questions. “What about the lobby and the ice cream?” he asked, his words still slurred but growing clearer with each passing minute. Karen’s smile was a gentle reminder of his delirious state. “You kept asking to see the lobby because you were still under the anesthesia’s influence. And the ice cream was for later, once we got home. It’s still in the freezer, waiting for you to wake up and have it for yourself,” she said, her voice a soft narrative of his hazy day. Plankton’s mind slowly pieced together the puzzle. “But why did I want to see the lobby?” he asked, his speech clearer now. Karen’s smile was a soft illumination. “You were just confused, love. Sometimes after anesthesia, people say things that don’t quite make sense. It’s normal,” she said, her voice a gentle guide through his foggy memories. Plankton’s gaze searched hers, his thoughts a tapestry of question marks. “But why did I drool?” he slurred, his curiosity piqued. Karen’s laugh was a sweet symphony of care. “It’s just a side effect of the anesthesia. Don’t worry, you were out cold. You didn’t even know it was there,” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of his oblivion. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his mind still trying to make sense of the day. “But the ice cream? Did I get any?” he asked, hope in his voice. Karen’s smile grew, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, Plankton. You can have some now, if you want,” she said, standing up to fetch the frozen treat. Plankton’s eye lit up with anticipation. “Yesh, pleash,” he murmured, his mouth still uncomfortable. Karen returned with the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, a spoonful held out for him. She watched as he took it into his mouth, the coldness causing him to flinch before his expression softened into one of pure bliss. The sweetness and the coldness of the ice cream was a soothing balm to his sore mouth, and he took another spoonful.

TOOTH AFTERNOON ii Karen leaned closer, her laughter dying down to a soft giggle. “You’re going to have to be careful with that mouth, Plankton. It’s going to be sore for a few days. But don’t worry, I’ve got all the soft foods you’ll need once we get home. Ice cream, soup, mashed potatoes...” Plankton’s eye lit up at the mention of ice cream. “Ish...cweam?” he mumbled, his mouth moving awkwardly. Karen nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Plankton. Ice cream, and anything else you want. Just no crunchy things, okay?” Plankton’s eye searched her face, his thoughts swimming. “Cweam...no...crunchy?” Karen nodded, her smile sympathetic. “Just until you heal up, love. No crunchy food for a bit. But we’ll manage. You’ll have your favorites, I promise. Just not the crunchy snacks for now.” The nurse returned to check his vitals and gave Karen a knowing look. “It’s going to be a long afternoon, isn’t it?” Karen nodded, wiping away a tear of laughter. “I’m ready for whatever comes next,” she said, her voice filled with determination. Plankton’s eye finally locked on hers, and he managed a wobbly smile. “Karen...” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “What is it, Plankton?” she asked, her tone filled with warmth. His voice was a barely-there murmur. “Whath...is...this...placsh?” His eye shifted. Karen’s laughter had subsided, leaving a warm smile in its place. “It’s the recovery room, Plankton. You’re at the dentist’s office. You had your wisdom teeth taken out.” She hoped the repetition would help him understand. But Plankton’s gaze remained cloudy. “Denthis...tish...” he slurred, his tongue a traitor to his speech. “Whewe the...the ...lobby?” Karen’s smile grew. “The lobby is right outside this door, sweetie.” Plankton’s eye searched hers desperately, as if she held the key to his sanity. “Whish way?” Karen pointed to the closed door, her voice a gentle guiding force. “Just through there, love. You’re not going anywhere until you’re feeling better.” Plankton’s gaze drifted to the door and back to Karen, his mind a tangled web of half-formed thoughts. “Buth I wan...I wanna...to...thee...the... lobby...nowww,” he protested, his words trailing off into a sleepy whine. Karen’s heart ached with a mix of pity and love for her disoriented husband. She squeezed his hand, her voice calm and firm. “Just stay here with me. We’re going to wait for the medicine to wear off a bit more, and then we’ll go home, okay?” Plankton’s eye searched hers, his thoughts a jumbled mess. “Buh...buth...my teefh... shaw I?” Karen nodded, her smile soft. “Yes, Plankton, your teeth. They’re okay.” Plankton’s eye searched the ceiling as if the answers were written there. “Whath...whath time ishit?” he mumbled. Karen checked her watch, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s three in the afternoon, honey. You’ve been asleep for a while now.” Plankton’s eye drifted to the ceiling again. “Tee...tree in the afternish...” he repeated, his words slurred and slow. Karen nodded, her smile lingering. “Yes, Plankton. Three in the afternoon. It’s time to wake up now, okay?” Plankton’s gaze drifted down to her, his eye half-lidded. “But...I’m not still sleepsh,” he protested, his speech still thick with anesthesia. Karen chuckled softly, squeezing his hand. “You’re awake now, Plankton. Just a bit sleepy and loopy, that’s all. The doctor said you’d be like this for a little while.” Plankton’s mouth moved as his brain worked to form words. “Loopy? Whath’s loopy?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and irritation. Karen’s chuckle was a warm wave that washed over him. “It means you’re not quite all there yet, honey. The anesthesia is still in your system, so you’re a bit out of it.” Plankton’s mouth twisted as he processed her words. “Anesh...thia?” he slurred. Karen nodded. “Yes, Plankton. The medicine they gave you to help you not feel pain during the surgery. It makes you a little loopy when you wake up.” Plankton’s eye searched hers, his curiosity piqued despite his muddled thoughts. “Mishine...” he mumbled, his tongue thick in his mouth. “Whath’s...whath’s...thish?” Karen followed his gaze to the IV in his arm. “That’s just the medicine that helped you sleep through the surgery, Plankton. It’s ok, it’s almost done.” Plankton’s eye grew wide. “Shurgery? Did...did I...?” “Yes, sweetie, you had surgery. But it’s all done now. You’re going to be just fine,” Karen reassured him, her voice a gentle lullaby. Plankton’s eye grew wide with realization. “Shergy? Did it hurt?” Karen’s smile was a soft caress. “No, Plankton. You slept through it all. You don’t remember a thing, thankfully. It was quick and painless for you,” she said, hoping to ease his worries. Plankton’s gaze drifted to his swollen cheeks, his hand coming up to tentatively touch the numbness. “Cheek...hurt?” he mumbled, his voice a slurred mess of syllables. Karen nodded gently. “Yes, sweetie, it’s going to be a bit sore for a while. But you’re doing great. Just stay still and let the medicine do its work,” she soothed, her voice a comforting melody. Plankton’s hand dropped back to the chair’s armrest, his eye heavy with the weight of the anesthesia. “Karen, what’s...what’s that beep...beep...beep?” he asked, his voice trailing off into sleepiness. Karen looked at the monitor behind him, the rhythmic beeping a comforting lullaby. “It’s just the heart rate monitor, Plankton. It’s making sure everything’s ok,” she explained, her voice a gentle reminder of the world outside his drugged haze. Plankton’s eye squinted as he tried to focus on the steady green line that blipped with each pulse. “Hearth hate?” he slurred, his tongue still uncooperative. Karen nodded. “It’s your heartbeat, Plankton. It’s making sure you’re ok. It’s all part of the recovery process,” she said, keeping her voice calm and steady. Plankton’s eye searched her face, his thoughts a tapestry of confusion. “Hearth...hate?” he repeated, the words a jumble of sounds that didn’t quite make sense. Karen’s smile was warm and understanding. “It’s your heart, Plankton. It’s beating, which is a good thing. It means you’re ok,” she said, her voice a soothing balm to his bewilderment. Plankton’s eye searched hers again, his mind a foggy maze. “Heath...beep...beep...” he murmured, his words a sleepy mantra. Karen’s smile remained, her patience unwavering. “It’s ok, sweetie. It’s just the machine making sure you’re ok. It’s your heart, beating nice and steady,” she explained, her voice a gentle whisper. Plankton’s eye blinked slowly. “Heath...beep...beep...good?” he managed to ask, his voice a soft mumble. Karen nodded, her smile a constant reassurance. “Yes, Plankton, your heart is good. It’s beating nice and strong. You’re going to be ok,” she said, her voice a warm embrace. But Plankton’s curiosity had not yet been sated. His gaze drifted to his hand, his mind trying to make sense of the strange shapes. “Whath...whath awe...thish?” he pointed to his hand, his finger waving weakly. Karen’s smile grew wider, her eyes filled with love and patience. “That’s your hand, Plankton. It’s ok, it’s all part of you,” she said, her voice a soothing balm to his confusion. Plankton stared at the foreign appendage, his mind still a whirlwind of anesthesia. “Han’...hand?” he repeated, his finger twitching slightly. Karen nodded, her smile never leaving her screen. “Yes, Plankton. That’s your hand. You can use it to do lots of things. Like hold ice for your sore mouth,” she said, her voice a gentle guide through his haze. But Plankton’s curiosity had taken a turn. “Ish...moufh...hurt?” his words still slurred and slow. Karen’s smile was understanding. “Yes, sweetie, your mouth might be sore from the surgery, but the ice will help with that,” she said, her voice a gentle guide through the fog of anesthesia. Plankton’s eye searched her face, his thoughts a jumble. “Ish...cweam...loobypop?” he murmured, his mouth still numb and uncooperative. Karen couldn’t help but laugh at his garbled words. “Ice cream and loopy bop?” she asked, her voice a soft caress of humor. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his thoughts a foggy haze. “No...no...floobydust...bishbath...” he mumbled, his words a nonsensical jumble. Karen’s smile grew, her screen twinkling with affection. “Floobydust and bishbath?” she repeated, her voice a gentle mockery of his slurred speech. “What on earth…” Plankton’s mouth moved in a slow, sleepy attempt at speech. “Thish...thish...thish...” he muttered, his words a stream of nonsense that seemed to make sense only to him. Karen watched him with amusement, his random word association a cute side effect of the anesthesia. “What are you saying, love?” she asked, her voice a soft chuckle. Plankton’s eye rolled back into his head as his eyelid grew heavy. “Stay with me, Plankton,” Karen urged, her voice a gentle prod against the tide of sleep. “Mmm...Karen...tiwed...” his voice trailed off, his eye trying to focus. Karen leaned in, her smile warm and gentle. “You’re fine, Plankton. You’ve just had surgery. Try to stay awake for a little while longer.” But Plankton’s body had other plans. His head lolled back, his snore a soft counterpoint to the steady beep of the monitor.

TOOTH AFTERNOON iv The car’s engine hummed a soothing tune, and Karen’s voice was a gentle guide in the background. “Almost home, love. Just a few more minutes,” she said, her screen never leaving the road. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his mind a tangled mess of half-formed thoughts. “Huh?” he mumbled, his voice a slurred echo. Karen’s smile was a soft guiding light. “We’re almost home, Plankton. Just a bit more, ok?” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of the warmth that awaited them. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and pain. “Home...moth...” he managed, his words still a slurred mess. Karen’s smile was a warm reassurance. “Yes, Plankton. Home. Just a few minutes more,” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of the comfort that was almost within reach. “Moth...no...moth...no...” his words made no sense. Karen’s smile grew, her eyes on the road ahead. “Almost there, Plankton. We’re just passing the park. You can see the swings?” she asked, her voice a gentle reminder of the world outside. Plankton’s gaze drifted to the window, his eye searching for familiar landmarks. “Swings...?” his voice a sleepy question. Karen nodded, pointing out the car window. “Yes, Plankton. The park. Remember, we come here sometimes to walk?” Plankton’s eye searched the blur of green outside, his mind trying to piece together the puzzle of the world. “Walsh?” he murmured, his speech still slurred and slow. Karen chuckled, her voice a warm embrace. “Yes, sweetie. We’ll walk in the park once you’re all healed up, ok?” she said, her eyes flickering to his reflection in the rearview mirror. The car pulled into the garage, the sudden darkness a stark contrast to the bright afternoon outside. Karen turned to him, her smile a gentle reminder of her presence. “Alright, Plankton. We’re home. Can you sit up for me?” she asked, her voice a soft guide back to reality. Plankton’s movements were slow, his body still fighting against the anesthesia’s grip. He nodded, his hand reaching for the car door. Karen was there in an instant, opening it for him and helping him to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, and he leaned heavily on her as they made their way to the house. The door creaked open, and the familiar scents of home wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. Plankton’s eye searched the room, his mind grasping for any semblance of normalcy. Karen guided him to their bedroom, the softness of the bed calling to him like a siren’s song. She helped him lay down, his body sinking into the mattress with a sigh of relief. His eyelid grew heavy, his thoughts drifting like leaves on a lazy river. Karen tucks him in. “Now, would you like…” But Plankton’s eye had already drifted shut, his body surrendering to the siren call of sleep. His snores grew steady and deep, the gauze in his mouth muffling the sound. Karen watched him. She knew the recovery ahead would be long and difficult, but she was ready to face it with him. With a soft sigh, she went to the kitchen and retrieved the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. She placed it on the nightstand, ready for when his hunger would inevitably wake him. She then gathered his favorite pillow, propping it under his head to elevate it slightly, hoping to reduce any swelling that might come. The house was eerily quiet, the only sounds being Plankton’s soft snores and the occasional tick of the grandfather clock downstairs. Karen felt a pang of loneliness in the absence of their usual banter, but she pushed it aside, focusing on his recovery. With tender care, she changed his gauze, the blood slowly seeping through a stark reminder of the surgery. She flinched at the sight, but quickly composed herself. She was his rock, his anchor in the storm of pain and confusion. She pulled the blanket up to his chin. “Rest, love,” she whispered. Plankton’s hand reached out, his movements slow and deliberate. He found hers, his fingers entwining with hers. “Kareb?” he mumbled, his voice a sleepy plea. Karen’s smile was a soft caress. “I’m right here, Plankton. I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him, her voice a gentle reminder of her constant presence. Plankton’s grip tightened slightly, his eye flickering open. “Wheh...youw shay...” he slurred, his words a sleepy plea. Karen leaned closer, her smile a gentle promise. “What did you say, sweetie?” she asked, her voice a soft whisper in the quiet room. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his grip on her hand growing firm. “Youw shay...stay...stay whiff me?” he murmured, his voice a slurred tapestry of need. Karen’s heart swelled with love. “Of course, Plankton. I’ll…” But her words were cut off by his snores, his hand going limp in hers. He was asleep again. Karen sat in the chair beside the bed, her hand still entwined with his. She knew this was just the beginning of a long road ahead, but she was ready. Plankton’s snores grew more rhythmic, his sleep deepening with each passing minute. Karen sat in the chair beside the bed, her thoughts a whirlwind of care and love. Her eyes never left him, a silent sentinel in the quiet room. She knew he’d have questions when he awoke, confusion to navigate, and pain to endure. The ice cream called from the nightstand, a sweet temptation she knew he’d crave. But for now, sleep was his best medicine, his body healing from the invasion of surgery. She watched his chest rise and fall, each breath a testament to his strength. The hours ticked by, the sun dipping below the horizon and leaving a soft glow in the room. Plankton’s snores grew quieter, his sleep more peaceful as his body slowly metabolized the lingering anesthesia. Karen’s thoughts wandered to the days ahead, planning his meals, his pain relief, and the moments of joy she’d weave into his recovery. The room grew darker, the streetlights outside casting a soft glow through the curtains. Karen’s eyes grew heavy with fatigue, but she fought it off, knowing Plankton would need her when he awoke. Her thoughts drifted to their first date, the way his laugh lit up the room, the way his hand felt in hers. A sudden movement caught her eye, and she turned to see Plankton’s eye flutter open, his gaze unfocused and lost. “Karen?” he croaked, his voice a dry whisper. Her smile was a gentle welcome back. “Hey there, sleepy. How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice a soft caress. Plankton’s mouth moved, his speech still slurred. “Moth...” he murmured, his tongue thick. Karen’s voice was a soft symphony of comfort. “You’re okay, Plankton. You’re home and safe. You just had surgery. Do you remember?” she prompted, her hand squeezing his gently. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his thoughts slowly coming into focus. “Sur...surgery?” he mumbled, the numbness in his mouth distorting his words. Karen nodded, her smile a warm embrace. “Yes, sweetie. Wisdom teeth surgery. It’s all over now, and you’re going to be okay,” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of the reality that had been obscured by the fog of anesthesia. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his mind slowly piecing together the fragments of the day. “Moth...huh?” he murmured, his hand moving to his swollen cheek. Karen’s voice was a soft lullaby. “It’s alright, love. You had your wisdom teeth out. You’re all safe and sound,” she said, her hand covering his own, guiding it back to the bedside. Plankton’s gaze searched his surroundings. “Thish... thish wish...” he mumbled. “Ice cream?” she guessed, her voice a whisper. Plankton’s nod was a tiny celebration of victory. “Yesh...ish cweam...now?” he asked, his eye hopeful. Karen chuckled, her smile a warm invitation. “Of course, sweetie. Let’s get you set up,” she said, her voice a gentle guidance as she reached for the ice cream.

TOOTH AFTERNOON iii Karen chuckled. Despite his current state, she was just happy he was out of pain. She sat back in her chair, watching him sleep and planning their quiet afternoon at home. Ice cream, his favorite blanket, and a marathon of their favorite show. The doctor returned, his expression one of understanding. “He’ll be out of it for a little while longer. But we can discharge him now if you’re ready to take him home,” he said, his voice a calm assurance. Karen nodded, her smile tired but still present. “Thank you, doctor. I think we’re ready,” she replied, her voice a soft acknowledgment of the journey that had only just begun. The doctor gave her a nod of understanding, his gaze softening. “Alright, let’s get you both home. I’ll go grab the gauze for his mouth,” he said, turning to leave the room. Karen nodded, her eyes still on Plankton’s sleeping form. She felt a mix of relief and exhaustion wash over her. The surgery was over, but the real challenge was just beginning: navigating Plankton’s recovery. The doctor returned with a small bag of supplies and instructions. “Make sure he doesn’t chew on anything too hard, and keep the gauze in to soak up the bleeding. He’ll be on a soft diet for a few days. Lots of rest, and no strenuous activities, okay?” he said, his voice kind and professional. “Now let’s get some gauze in.” Karen watched as the doctor carefully placed the gauze in Plankton’s mouth. Would he wake up? Would he panic? But Plankton remained asleep, his breathing steady. The nurse offered a gentle pat on the shoulder. “You’re a trooper, Mr. Plankton,” she said, her voice a soft whisper of encouragement. The doctor turned to Karen, his expression a blend of pride and fatigue. “You’ve both done well today. He’s ready to go home, but make sure to follow the instructions I gave you. No chewing, no crunchy foods, and keep that gauze in place. Call us if you have any concerns, okay?” Karen nodded, her smile grateful. “Thank you, doctor. We really appreciate it,” she said, her voice a soft echo of the beeps that surrounded them. With a gentle touch, Karen shook Plankton’s shoulder. “Wake up, Plankton. Time to go home,” she whispered, her voice a soothing lullaby to rouse him from his anesthesia-induced slumber. Plankton’s eye cracked open, his gaze unfocused. “Whathapennin’?” he mumbled, his tongue a thick obstacle in his mouth. Karen’s smile was a warm reassurance. “It’s time to go home, sweetie. The surgery’s all over,” she whispered, her voice like a gentle breeze. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his thoughts a tangled mess. “Home?” he murmured, his mouth moving awkwardly around the gauze. Karen nodded, her smile a beacon in the sterile room. “Yes, Plankton. We’re going home now. The doctor says you can go if you’re feeling okay,” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of the world waiting outside. Plankton’s eye searched hers, his thoughts slowly coming into focus. “Home?” he repeated, his voice still thick with sleep. Karen nodded, her smile a warm embrace. “Yes, we’re going home. The surgery is done, and the doctor says you’re okay to leave. Can you stand up for me?” she asked, her tone a gentle coax. Plankton’s body moved with the sluggishness of a marionette. He pushed himself up, his legs wobbly like gelatin. Karen helped him to his feet, her arm a sturdy pillar under his. The room spun, and his eye searched for a focal point. “Wheh…” he murmured, his mind a foggy mess. Karen’s grip was firm, her voice steady. “Take it slow, Plankton. You’re ok, just a bit wobbly. We’re going home now,” she said, guiding him towards the door. Plankton’s steps were shaky, his legs unsure beneath him. The world outside the recovery room was a blur of faces and colors, but Karen’s was the only one that made sense. She led him to the car, her arm a warm security around his waist. The cool air hit him like a wave, his skin prickling as his mind swam with the sudden shift from the clinical calm of the dentist’s office to the bustling chaos of the parking lot. “Walk with me, love,” Karen said, her voice a gentle guide in the storm of his disorientation. Plankton’s feet shuffled forward, his movements mechanical as Karen led him to their car. The brightness of the afternoon sun was a stark contrast to the sterile fluorescence of the recovery room, making him squint. He felt like a newborn fawn, his legs wobbly and unsteady. With Karen’s guidance, Plankton managed to get into the passenger seat, his body sinking into the softness with a sigh of relief. The car door clicked shut, sealing them into a cocoon of quiet comfort. Karen climbed behind the wheel, her movements efficient and familiar as she adjusted the mirrors and started the engine. The world outside their bubble grew fuzzier as they drove away from the dental clinic, the hum of the tires lulling Plankton into a semi-lucid state. He leaned his head against the cool window, watching the trees and buildings blur past. “Wheh...awe we...going?” he slurred, his voice a sleepy echo. Karen’s smile was a warm comfort. “Home, Plankton. We’re going home so you can rest and heal. You’ve had a big day, haven’t you?” she said, her voice a gentle reminder of the journey behind them. Plankton’s nod was a sleepy affirmation. “Yeah...big...day,” he mumbled, his eye drooping closed again, his head lolled to the side. “So, sweetie, what’s the first thing you want to do when we get home?” she asked, her voice a gentle prod to keep him engaged. Plankton’s mouth moved slowly, his thoughts a thick sludge. “Ish...cweam?” Karen’s laugh was a soft symphony. “Ice cream, yes. As soon as we get home and you’re comfortable, you can have all the ice cream you want. I’ve got your favorite flavor waiting for you in the freezer,” she said, her voice a sweet promise. Plankton’s eye lit up with the mention of ice cream, a tiny spark of excitement in the sea of confusion. “Fishy...flaver?” he mumbled, his mouth still numb. Karen chuckled, her voice warm and loving. “Chocolate, Plankton. Your favorite chocolate chip cookie dough. I know you’ll love it,” she assured him. She was ready to play nurse, chef, and entertainer all rolled into one. Plankton’s head lolled to the side, the gauze in his mouth a stark white against his pale cheek. His eye flits open and closed, the world a mosaic of colors and shapes as they drove.